Transformers Renaissance: Deus Ex Machina
by MyBlueOblivion
Summary: Part three of the Renaissance series. The pieces are in place, the new war has begun, and hope resides in allies both old and new. Can the Autobots defeat the terror that is Overlord? Or will all we know come to an end?
1. Chapter 1

Transformers: Renaissance

Part Three: Deus Ex Machina

Chapter One

"_Cry 'Havoc!', and let slip the dogs of War!"_ - _Hamlet_, by William Shakespeare

_Decepticon Hall of Heroes, Iacon City, Cybertron, z- seven days_

_...Starscream held the Matrix before him, bathing in the golden yellow glow from its core, feeling the new power source starting to fill his body. Shifting the device's weight from one hand to the other, he took in the markings on it's flawless surface, admiring its simplistic beauty. He could hear them in his mind, both Matrices in harmony, singing softly of the power that was to come, the untold strength that they would bestow upon him. Intoxicated by the thought, he ignored the groans of fear among the crowd, and the cries of his followers for him to continue. All existence, all of Starscream's reality, fell in upon this one moment. _

Here it is_, he thought. _My destiny is here at last_. Grasping the handles of the armour surrounding the Matrix, he began to pull..._

With aching slowness, the two halves of the armour surrounding the device began to separate. The bright yellow light within began to pulse, increasing in strength each time until it was nearly glowing white. The air in the hall began to throb with each pulse, echoing from the walls and columns, and echoing in the sparks of every Transformer present. Many of the Cybertronian civilians quailed with fear, and a few ran for the doors. The Decepticon soldiers fared little better, each seeking out any shelter they could find. Everyone who stayed, though, found they could not tear their optics away from Starscream.

He stood in the centre of a burgeoning storm, engulfed in a halo of burning white energy. The Matrix of Combination was beginning to merge with the Matrix of Power, the weaker of the two feeding directly from its violent sibling. Arcs of energon began to ripple over Starscream's frame, occasionally lashing out from his silhouetted form and striking the surrounding marble and stone. With increasing speed, the storm of energy pulsed and shifted, rising to a terrifying crescendo. And at the centre of it all, as the colossal energies began to wreak sudden change upon his body, Starscream lived up to his name. He screamed.

Starscream's form began to twist and reshape, contorting at impossible angles. The metal began to shift, and then run like wax, and new shapes began to form in and around the old structures of his body. Starscream cried out again, a sound of anguish and utmost pain, a wailing cry that merged with the etheric storm and echoed from the walls. The sound sent chills through the Decepticon forces, and they watched in horror as the energy vortex surrounding their Emperor expanded suddenly, blocking him from sight altogether. A keening wail rent the air, a sound that made the watchers think of some terrible creature being born, and then, as suddenly and violently as it had started, the storm vanished.

The light faded, and an unnatural quiet descended upon the hall. Thundercracker waited a few seconds, making sure that the event was completely over, before tentatively looking out from behind the pillar he had used as an impromptu shelter. What he saw drew an involuntary gasp from his vocaliser. Where Starscream had been, an unfamiliar shape knelt in the centre of a shallow crater that had formed on the dais. The throne that had been there was gone, destroyed completely. The shape was a mech, that much was for certain, but Thundercracker could instantly see that it was much larger than his brother; larger, in fact, than Optimus Prime, he mused.

The mass of red and white armour shifted, then slowly stood, unfurling itself to its full height. It was indeed huge, easily larger than Prime or Megatron, if less bulky. The new mech languidly stretched his limbs, inspecting his form in a near-predatory fashion, and in that moment Thundercracker knew that this was Starscream, not replaced but transformed. Bright crimson optics looked up at the room around him, surveying the cowering Cybertronians and the wary Decepticons with equal amounts of disinterest and disdain, a cruel smirk crossing his features.

Deep, resonant laughter filled the hall, rich and strong, and it took a moment for those present to realise that it was emanating from Starscream's new form. Starscream laughed loud and long, revelling in the sheer joy of life, delighting in his new body and his new-found power. He noticed at once that everyone around him found the sound quite distressing, and that too gave him no small amount of enjoyment. He drank in the fear that permeated the air, savouring it as a human would a fine wine. This was true power, he mused. The power of fear. The power of control.

"People of Cybertron", he roared, the new, deep timbre of his voice lending it greater strength, "with the power of the Tear-drops at my command, none shall stand in my way. I shall carve a swathe through the stars, engrave my name upon worlds and reshape the cosmos according to my will! The Autobots will fall, as will all who oppose me!"

"Starscream, you have gone too far!" cried out a voice, echoing faintly in the aftermath of Starscream's declaration. "You are not an Emperor, but a tyrant, and you will be brought to justice!"

"Who dares defy me?" Starscream hissed, levelling a vicious glare at the remaining Cybertronian dissenters. "Answer me!"

"I do", replied the voice, a little more strongly, and a tall, young mech proceeded to step forward from the crowd. "I speak for all free Cybertronians, and all free peoples. Cybertron will not tolerate your actions."

Starscream glared at the youngster, smiling coldly. Slowly, with a barely audible whine, he lifted himself into the air, hovering just above the ground. A faint nimbus of energy began to play around his form, and his optics flared, bright as the sun.

"Imbecile!" he bellowed, "I _AM_ Cybertron!"

No-one present could later claim to have seen Starscream move. He was simply too fast. One moment, he was floating above the dais, surrounded by light, the next he was at the opposite side of the hall. He impacted with his opposer with astounding force, before driving him into the far wall with a shuddering _crack_. Starscream stepped back after a moment, pulling his right fist out of the broken mass that had been the other mech's head, and dropped the still-twitching body to the floor, leaving thin rivulets of energon and coolant running down the cracked marble. Starscream gazed at the fallen mech, his features unreadable.

"As I said, so end all traitors", he hissed. With a whine of jet engines, he rose into the air, stretching out his arms theatrically and addressing the assembled crowds. "Share in this fool's sentiments", he spat, "and you share in this fool's fate. The Starscream you knew is no more. He was weak, and pitiful. I... I am all-powerful. With the Matrices in my hands, I will crush all who oppose me. I will grind my enemies into dust, and their memories will be lost to the ages while my legacy burns for eternity.

"I am unbeatable!" Starscream continued, his voice rising with each word until it was a roar, "I am supreme! Worlds will speak my name and tremble with fear! I... AM... _OVERLORD_!"

_The Ark, Colorado, USA, z- minus six days_

Ravage stood outside the entrance to the _Ark_, silently steeling himself for what might prove to be the most difficult mission of his life. He shut down his optics for a moment, and allowed himself a brief snarl of annoyance; he would have preferred sneaking into this place, like he had been trained, no, _born _to do. Walking openly up to the main entrance seemed completely unnatural. But, orders were orders. If Megatron needed him to play the little messenger, so be it. It didn't mean he had to like it, though. Bringing his optics slowly on-line, Ravage waited until the Autobot sentries were looking almost directly at him, then stepped out from his hiding place.

Bumblebee and Cliffjumper had been on sentry duty for nearly three hours, and Cliffjumper was already beginning to complain of boredom. Bumblebee had chosen to ignore his friend's grumbling; Cliffjumper wasn't best suited to standing still, he knew, and he had kindly tried to distract the red VW Bug. The cheerful yellow mech was just about to suggest a game of on-line blackjack, something that would provide a pleasant distraction while allowing the mini-bots to keep doing their job, when he caught a movement on the edge of his vision.

Bumblebee instantly snapped to attention, focussing on one of the larger boulders that lined the road that ran from the _Ark_'s entrance. He couldn't see anything moving, and Bumblebee was just about to dismiss it as a trick of the light when he caught the movement again. This time, though, one of the shadows that surrounded the base of the rock formation detached itself from the others, and began to walk out into the open. The hazy, blurred outline began moving toward the sentries at a leisurely pace, then stopped some twenty metres away. To Bumblebee's optics, it was like looking at the background through a piece of warped glass.

"'Bee, you seein' that?" Cliffjumper asked, as he brought his rifle out of subspace and took aim at the distorted patch of air.

"Yep, I'm seeing it", Bumblebee replied, training his own weapon. "Halt! Show yourself!"

Both Autobots watched, tense and ready to act, as Ravage de-activated his stealth field. The air rippled, then the field collapsed, random sections becoming visible and bleeding into one another until the jet-black feline was completely visible. Blood-red optics regarded them with undisguised malice, a predator regarding his prey. The cassette-mech's twin rocket pods twitched from side to side slightly, matching the aggravated movements of his tail, almost as though Ravage was resisting the urge to lock-on to a particular target. He glared at the two Autobots, and let loose a low, menacing hiss.

"_I invoke 'parley'"_, he said, telepathically broadcasting directly at his opposite numbers. The voice rasped slightly inside their minds, conveying a definite sense of distaste, and practically spitting the word 'parley'. _"I bring a message for your leader."_

"Yeah, well, you can take your message and cram it up yer tailpipe!" Cliffjumper quipped, grinning sardonically. He motioned with blaster in the direction of the road. "Now get lost. We 'aint interested."

"_You"_, Ravage spat again, ignoring Cliffjumper and directing his glare straight at Bumblebee, _"insect. This is not a game. I carry an urgent message for Optimus Prime. Take me to him, or fetch him here, I don't much care in all truth. I have a job to do, and I don't care how I have to go about completing it..."_ Ravage let the unspoken threat hang, and began to pace impatiently from side to side, snarling occasionally. The two mini-bots looked at each other for a moment, then back at the Decepticon infiltration specialist. Eventually, Bumblebee shrugged.

"Okay", he said. "We take him to Prime."

O o O o O

"Okay, kitty-cat, let's get one thing on the level. I check _anything_ comin' out of your sorry hide that looks remotely like a virus, and I'll fry you so fast you'll think you were sparked on the national grid. D'you dig me?"

Blaster looked his usual nonchalant self, with his arms folded loosely across his chest plate. But his tone said otherwise as he stared down at Ravage, flanked by two of his own creations,Steelfang and Rewind. The red and grey communications specialist had offered his services as a filter, translating the coded message for Teletran-One and intercepting any threats to the super computer. Optimus Prime had called on the senior officers to be present as soon as he had heard about Ravage's message, and word had quickly spread to the others. As a result, the panther-mech was surrounded by a fair-sized crowd, all eager to watch Blaster carry out his threat, or at least watch the message itself. Ravage snarled briefly at his creator's nemesis, before lowering his head in acceptance.

"_As you wish"_, the feline crooned mentally, his 'voice' carrying only a hint of annoyance. _"So long as it is understood that the same rule applies to yourself."_

"Done, and done. I think we're ready, boss-man", Blaster finished, turning his attention to Optimus. The red and blue mech looked briefly to his command staff, then to his son, looking for any nay-sayers, and when none stepped forward he motioned for Blaster to continue.

Given the go-ahead, Blaster transformed to his alternate mode, quickly mass-shifting down to an appropriate size for an Autobot-scaled portable stereo. Rewind dutifully stepped forward and picked up his creator, carefully placing him on the work console of Teletran-One. A moment later, and a small probe wound its way out of a port on Blaster's back and connected to a data-transfer port on the console. A few moments later, and the cassette deck opened, and Blaster announced that he was ready. As soon as Ravage had transformed and connected with him, Teletran's screen lit up and the message began to play.

"Greetings, Optimus", said the familiar face of Megatron as it blinked into life on the view screen. Almost every Autobot present had to resist the urge to tense up. The tyrant's optics glowed brighter for a moment, and his features creased into a cruel approximation of a smile. The result was a collective shudder amongst his audience. The Decepticon leader continued speaking after a moment.

"As strange as this will undoubtedly sound", Megatron began, his voice deliberately light and betraying only the slightest grinding of his dental plates, "I am sending this message with a request for aid." This statement was met with an assortment of snorts, gasps and other exclamations of shock or surprise. On the screen, Megatron visibly dropped the 'friendly' act and became serious.

"I can only imagine your response. Considering our past, I can assure you my own reaction would have been far more violent. But, with circumstances as they stand, I have little choice but to offer a truce. As you have undoubtedly heard, Starscream has declared himself Emperor of Cybertron, and has taken away no less than half of my forces. As it stands, I have been unsuccessful in regaining control of the Decepticons in their entirety.

"To make matters far, far worse, Starscream has taken the Matrix of Power. My sources on Cybertron have also confirmed that he is, at least, in possession of the Matrix of Combination. You have no doubt received similar reports. You know what this means, Optimus. The Prophecy, in it's darkest form, is coming true. And Starscream is the chosen harbinger. All the signs point to it. Unless we stop him, here and now, you know as well as I do that he will take the Matrix of Leadership from you by force. He will destroy your forces, and everyone else who crosses him, and we will end up with no way to stop him.

"I know we have had our differences, Prime. I know that, with our sordid past, you may never truly trust me. But know this. Turn my offer down, reject this one chance, and Cybertron dies. This sorry ball of rock that we currently call home will probably follow shortly thereafter. Everything you love and hold dear, everything you know, will be destroyed for the sake of Starscream's vanity. What happens next is entirely up to you. I await your response. Send it via Ravage, or send an emissary of your own, it doesn't matter. Just reply soon, before we all pay the price for your indecision."

Megatron's face froze in the frame for a brief instant, his features haggard and heavy with concern, and then the image blinked out to be replaced by the purple Decepticon insignia. Optimus stared at the symbol for a long moment, deep in thought, his primary vents releasing a long, quiet sigh. His optics seemed to be staring at both something and yet nothing, completely unfocussed. Ravage quietly ejected from Blaster, transforming and landing with next to no sound, and Blaster transformed himself before joining his comrades. The rest of the Autobots shifted uncomfortably, most of them unsure of what to say.

For Prime's part, all of his worst nightmares were coming at life at once. A prophecy from before recorded history, either on this world or his home, was coming to pass in his lifetime. A sad, quiet part of his mind asked why it couldn't have been a foretelling of peace; the rest of him quickly answered that he simply wasn't that lucky, and offered the war to date as a case in point. Coming out of his reverie, Prime looked up, his optics passing over the now-familiar form of his son, Artemis. The younger Prime was himself looking at something that wasn't there, but his expression wasn't one of fear or consternation. It was one of confusion.

"What's on your mind?" Optimus asked, stepping close to Artemis and lowering his voice.

"There's something I just don't get", Artemis replied, his yellow optics meeting the his father's ice-blue gaze. "None of this is right. Overlord is supposed to be here, soon, to take the three Matrices and create my future. But I've checked Teletran's database, and there is no mention of an 'Overlord' anywhere in your reports on Megatron's forces. I'd never heard of this Starscream before coming here."

"It's possible that Overlord may be from Cybertron, or one of the colonies", Optimus answered softly.

"Perhaps. But I'm beginning to wonder... Did I change things? By coming here, I mean? What if the temporal displacement device somehow disrupted the time-line, and Overlord no longer exists? What if I have made things worse?"

"What if you have made things better? It won't do any good for you to second guess yourself", Optimus said, smiling. "You came here in good faith, with the best intentions for your own time and ours. Even if you _have_ somehow stopped Overlord from existing, and Starscream is now the one to bring about your future, then you can still help." Optimus raised his right hand and placed it on the white and blue mech's shoulder. "You did the right thing. Have no doubt on that." With one last look at his son, the Autobot commander then turned to face Ravage, his features set with grim determination.

"Tell your master that I will agree to this alliance. I will send word shortly, and arrange to meet him in person. But know this", Prime finished, his optics flashing dangerously as he hoisted Ravage into the air so he was face to face with him, "if this is a trap, or a trick of any kind, then I swear by Primus that he will regret the day he was sparked. Starscream will be the very least of his problems..."

* * *

_Deus Ex Machina_ is dedicated to Prime Revolver, without whom this story may never have come to pass.

* * *

Author's notes: Transformers and all associated characters/locations are the property of Hasbro/HasTak Inc., not myself. Overlord, in form and unique traits, is mine, even if I did just glue some shiny new tech to Starscream. Artemis Prime is the property of Prime Revolver, and is on very kind loan. Thanks again! 

Deus Ex Machina translates loosely as "God from the machine". It seemed a bit obvious at the time, and I think it sounds cool. So there!

Chapter two coming soon. Stay tuned...


	2. Chapter 2

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Two

"_Welcome to my humble house. May some of whatever joy you bring be left behind..." - _Bram Stoker's _Dracula_

_Decepticon lunar outpost, Mere Crisium, z- five days_

The Decepticon lunar outpost was a small affair by Cybertronian standards, at least on the surface. It consisted of a central hub and five tall, angular spires, all constructed from a dark purplish-grey alloy. It sat against the crater wall at the northern end of the area the humans called 'Mere Crisium', hunkered down like some overgrown spider, waiting for its next meal to happen by. It was an ironic thought, so far as Optimus Prime was concerned; as he trudged, alone, over the dismal grey moonscape, he felt uncommonly like the proverbial fly, entering the spider's parlour.

'Mere Crisium'. 'Sea of Crises'. The place was well named, Optimus mused. It had taken the greatest of crises to lure him here, to this Primus-forsaken place. As he continued walking, the observation towers looming ever closer, Prime's sensors picked up yet another concealed weapons cluster tracking his progress. It was the fifth he had passed, and the Autobot leader silently wondered at the level of paranoia that had gone into the defences for such a small listening post; the place was more heavily guarded than some parts of the Halix shipyards back on Cybertron.

Prime had taken the journey to the outpost as soon as he had received the co-ordinates from Megatron, sent via a coded signal. Strangely, the code had been of an old Autobot type, something that had disturbed a few of Prime's command staff. Against his own better judgement, Optimus had conceded to the Decepticon's request of coming alone, save for some transport. He had chosen Jetfire for the job, rather than taking the other option of Omega Supreme, as it would show a degree of trust in this offer of 'parley'. Passing a sixth weapon emplacement, Prime began to question the wisdom of that idea.

Finally, Prime reached the armoured entrance portal, and stopped. He had assumed that the Decepticons would have opened the portal immediately, rather than prolong this whole affair. Instead, the door remained stubbornly closed. Prime quickly located the surveillance equipment that he knew would be covering the entrance, and with a brief scan confirmed that it was working. He glared at the visual pick-up sensor, and waited for Megatron's response. A few sparkbeats later, and the reply came, as the outer door slid slowly open, wisps of atmosphere escaping out into the void as it did so.

As Prime cleared the airlock, and entered the dimly lit corridor beyond, the first true pangs of fear began to coil around his internal systems. As the door closed behind him with a faint _clang, _he surveyed what little there was to see of his surroundings. The corridor was narrow, and lined with shallow alcoves, giving an impression of the ribcage of a metal snake. Some fifty metres ahead, another heavy set door finished the scenery. Wary of his surroundings quickly becoming a killing field, Prime began to scan for any concealed weaponry or traps, and slowly began to advance toward the exit.

"_If we wanted you dead, Autobot, then you would be already. Relax." _Optimus spun on the spot, startled, quickly raising his pulse blaster and bringing it to bear on Ravage, the source of the telepathic 'voice'. Ever one to show off his espionage skills, the feline mech had appeared as if from nowhere directly behind Prime, melting out of the shadows with only the barest whisper. He sat there, without an apparent care in the world, and stared straight into Prime's optics, before nodding slightly at the weapon he held.

"_Are you planning on using that"_, Ravage quipped, yawning to emphasise his complete disaffection, _"or is it simply for decoration?"_

"I nearly killed you, Ravage."

"_Ooh, I quiver with fear."_

"I suppose shooting you wouldn't help diplomatic relations much", Prime growled after a moment, sub-spacing his weapon. "Tell me, do you always sneak up behind Megatron's guests?"

"_Only the ones I truly despise"_, Ravage purred in reply, sarcasm dripping from every note. _"I was sent to lead you to Megatron. Do try to keep up, won't you?"_

_The Ark, Colorado, USA_

"Any word yet, Ironhide?"

Artemis Prime asked the same question he had been asking precisely every half an hour since his father's departure, as he paced yet once more past Teletran-One's main console. Optimus had tasked the young mech with gaining as much information as possible from Cybertron, and contacting as many of the remaining Autobot forces as he could. Every attempt at opening communications had failed so far, and it was with mounting frustration that Artemis had started ordering less than conventional channels of communication. Jazz, Blaster and Ironhide sat at the terminal, working at finding a solution.

"Nothin' yet, Prime", Ironhide replied, his trademark drawl showing just the slightest hint of annoyance. The veteran warrior turned to face the youngster, and gave him a brief smile. "At least not since the last time ya asked." Artemis stopped pacing, and nodded thoughtfully.

"Sorry", he said, smiling in return. "Guess I'm just a bit impatient."

"I know your anxious to impress the boss-man, Art", Blaster chipped in. "But frettin' won't help ya none. He's already impressed by the fact you're even _here_. That wins a lot of respect all on its own. Now if you could only trust yerself, and us, a lil' bit..."

"Okay, okay, point taken!" Artemis sighed, raising his hands in mock defeat and grinning sheepishly.

"As I understand it", Jazz joined in, turning completely away from the work station to face Artemis, "you're quite the war hero in your own right. And don't shake yer head; to fight the war yeh did, for as long as yeh did, then to have the guts to come here to try and do it all again? You are far more able than you give yourself credit for, man. So chill, okay? Be yerself, not the mech you think _we_ think you should be."

Artemis' gaze lowered to the floor, and he heaved a deeper sigh. Nodding once more, he looked seriously at the three older warriors, yellow optics losing their nervous manner. His whole stance changed, as though he had come to a decision, and he unconsciously straightened. "Thank you", he said simply, his voice sincere. "That means a lot." Jazz, Blaster, and Ironhide nodded, pleased that they were finally seeing the Artemis that was absolutely Optimus' son. The mood was broken a few moments later, as an alarm sounded from Teletran-One. All four mechs instantly focussed on the computer.

"Did we get a response from Cybertron?" Artemis asked.

"'Fraid not, man", came Blaster's slightly clipped reply. "'Tran's sky-spy just picked up a Decepticon attack on Lewison Falls. That's less than thirty miles from here."

"It looks like Starscream's reign of terror got started five days early", Artemis growled. "Rally all available forces, and contact my father. We have to stop this, and stop it now. Roll out!"

_Decepticon lunar outpost, Mere Crisium_

"Greetings, Optimus Prime."

No matter what Prime told himself, he still found the voice behind those words chilling. Megatron's deep, resonant tones rang from the control room walls, and despite the forced welcome and levity in that voice, it still brought only one thing to mind. Murder. Staring into the blood-red optics of his nemesis, Prime found himself feeling the same anger he always felt, instead of the calm he _needed_. For a moment, all he could concentrate on was the need to destroy the monster before him, to be rid of the mech responsible for so much death, so much suffering. Responsible for his son. Sitting on his throne, it was clear from Megatron's expression that he was thinking much the same thing.

"This will never work, you know", Megatron said, his voice barely above a whisper, his features curling into a wry smile. "It would appear that we can not even see past that which is right in front of us."

"Then what would you suggest, Megatron?" Prime said, his voice low, whilst slowly clenching and unclenching his fists. "We both know we need this truce, but if we can't overcome our differences..."

"Then all will be lost. And our war, our world, will mean nothing more than the ashes we will leave behind." Prime hadn't been aware that anyone else was in the room, and was more than a little surprised when his line of thought was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice. He looked to his right, and watched as Snaptrap stalked from the shadows that skirted the large chamber. The Seacon regarded Prime with cold, yellow optics, his expression unreadable behind his black battle-mask.

"Alone", came a third voice, as Razorclaw entered the chamber from Prime's left, "neither of our factions can stand in the face of prophecy. Only by working together, and fighting against our common foe, can we make sure that Starscream will not obtain the third Matrix. We have no choice." To Prime's mind, it seemed that the Predacon and Seacon commanders were trying to convince themselves and Megatron as much as himself. That thought in itself was unsettling.

"I agree", Prime answered, his voice taking on a leader's tone. "For the duration of this crisis, at the very least, we should pool our resources. Starscream has already become far too powerful. He must be stopped. But the question is, can I trust you? Because if I can't trust the Decepticons to keep their end of any bargain struck, then this will never work. For the good of all races, I have to know. Will you keep your word?" He was answered by yet more cold laughter from Megatron. The silver-white war-leader stood slowly, and descended the few small steps from his throne before walking slowly toward Prime. As he did so, he hissed,

"Trust? Hah! If you think you can trust me, Prime, then there is something wrong with your logic circuits. Even if I _were_ trustworthy, you would never truly believe that. There is too much history between us, too much spilt energon. You wish to see me pay for my deeds with all your spark. But know this. I covet power with just as much veracity, if not more. I will never rest until I have absolute power, and I will stop at no end to have my revenge on that traitor, Starscream. And if I have to forge a pact with you to do so, and honour your requests, then that is what I shall do. _Trust in that_, Prime. As they say, after all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend..."

O o O o O

As Prime walked the lonely route back to rendezvous with Jetfire a few hours later, he found his mind buzzing with possibilities. Most of them were leaning toward the almost frivolous hope of an extended cease-fire. After literally millions of years of war with the Decepticons, he simply _had _to hope. There would always be, Prime guessed, a part of himself that would hold on to the hope of an end to the war; an end that didn't involve the extinction of one or both factions. Of course, mixed with these thoughts and the plans that he and Megatron's forces had outlined, were others. Dark thoughts and deep possibilities passed through Prime's mainframe, chilling him a little with their violent endings.

It would be all too easy for either side of this coalition to abuse the other, to watch as their opposite number exhausted themselves then strike a killing blow, finishing the war once and for all. The thought had first struck Prime whilst speaking with Snaptrap, of all mechs. He had mentally remarked upon the calm reserve and seeming honour of the sword master, someone he had only known by his previous reputation as a cold, ruthless killer. Those thoughts had, in turn, led to a comparison to Megatron, and the sudden thought of an underhanded attack from him had raised its ugly head, giving Prime pause for thought. A short while later, and the idea had moved from being a reason for a workable defence to a possible plan of action.

The fact that the notion had even occurred to Prime made him want to purge his intakes right there on the crater floor. Instead, he forced himself forward, steeling himself against the thoughts that troubled him so. Endless aeons of experience as Prime had taught Optimus to put his needs and feelings second; it was the same for all great leaders, he supposed. All part of being the hero his people needed him to be. As he continued walking toward the crater edge, Prime was forcibly broken from his reverie by the sharp tone of a private communications channel opening.

_::Prime, we have a problem::_ Jetfire's voice rang tersely in Prime's audio-pick-up. _::I just received word from Blaster. Starscream's forces are attacking Lewison Falls, and Artemis has taken a strike force to engage them. Orders?::_

_::Take off and meet me halfway:: _Prime ordered, picking his pace up to a run, eager to decrease his delay in getting to Earth by any means he could. As he did so, a simple phrase passed through his mind. _And so it begins..._

_Lewison Falls, Colorado, USA_

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe surveyed the scene from their hiding places, calmly waiting for the enemy to make the fatal mistake of showing their heads. On one side of the street, Sunstreaker took shelter in the side alley of a small bakery. His usually pristine yellow armour was streaked with grime and soot, and sported a number of dents from light weapons impacts and shrapnel. The bakery itself had been reduced to little more than a scarred and blackened shell, and the remains of a dark blue Prius stuck out at an awkward angle from an upper storey window. The street beyond, and the city as well, looked even worse. In short, a once peaceful, quiet city had been turned into yet another war zone.

On the other side of the street, Sideswipe hunkered down behind the upended carcass of a waste-disposal truck, weapon at the ready. In the two hours that had passed since the Autobots had arrived on scene, the fighting had become steadily more intense, various splinter groups breaking off and heading deeper into the city, which had quickly turned into a burning wasteland. For the tenth time in as many minutes, the young mech checked his weapon's charge, and tested the aiming sights. Deciding he was getting bored, he looked down the street to where a handful of Decepticon grunts were nervously peeking around the interposing debris. The idea of them being nervous, at least, made Sideswipe smile to himself.

Countless pieces of information assaulted Sideswipe's senses as he thought about this; the battle cries of his friends and foes mingled with the screams of terrified humans caught in the crossfire; explosions and staccato weapons fire rattling in the distance merged effortlessly with the pounding footfalls of combined gestalt teams; the growing scent of spilt energon and coolant became tainted by the stench of burning rubber and flesh, as city-wide fires sent plumes of thick smoke skyward, turning the blue vista dark and raining ash down upon the combatants. And behind it all, he knew, were the Decepticons.

Whilst he would never openly admit it to his brother, Sideswipe had grown quite fond of the humans and their world; that Starscream and those like him would destroy it on a whim angered the young mech, and he wished with all his might that the waiting would end and he could finally do something about it. Instead, he shot a devilish grin at his twin, and asked in his most petulant voice "Are we there yet?" The venomous look that he received in reply told him that Sunny's combat programming was working perfectly, raising a further smile from the crimson mech.

_::Delta team, this is Alpha team:: _Prowl's voice cut in over the comm-system, surprising Sideswipe slightly. From the look on Sunstreaker's face he was hearing the same thing. _::Alpha team is inbound, approaching from the north. Artemis Prime and Jazz requesting distraction fire. Copy?::_

_::Copy. Sunstreaker out:: _Sunny replied. He looked down at his brother's crouched position, and gave a grin of his own. "Finally, we get to cause some havoc", he said.

"Yep", came the simple reply, as Sideswipe brought a small, spherical device out of a subspace pocket.

"What's that?" Sunny asked, already dreading the answer. He didn't like surprises.

"Oh, just something I swiped from Wheeljack's lab. He made it after that movie night three months ago. You know, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_."

"He didn't... surely not..."

"Yep, he did", Swipe cut in, as he thumbed the activation stud on the grenade. He muttered 'thou shalt not count past three', before hurling the device with the accuracy of a major league pitcher, straight at the enemy emplacement. "Cover your audios!" Sideswipe yelled, ducking back into cover. An instant later, and the street was lit by a massive explosion, accompanied by an eerie, high pitched screech as the shockwave sped by, sounding for all the world like the roar of furious angels. The twins watched, rapt, as the four Decepticons were thrown in random directions by the blast.

"What the frak was that?" Sunstreaker yelled almost joyously, like a kid who had seen a brand new game for the first time.

"Sonic-reinforced cold fusion grenade", Sideswipe grinned in response, quoting the small manual he had 'liberated' along with the grenade. "Similar yield to a nuclear device of the same size, with no radiation to speak of! I swear, 'Jack's a genius! Flashy, destructive and portable to boot. I love it!"

"Amen to that. Shall we?" Sunny confirmed, before gesturing toward the slowly recovering enemy.

O o O o O

Crankcase dragged himself painfully along the cracked asphalt, desperate to get back into cover. His audio sensors were still ringing from the explosion of the grenade, and from the look of things his team were in even worse shape than he was. The twin Autobots responsible for the carnage were pouring fire toward his team's position, keeping them pinned down or scrabbling for cover. Every servo aching, Crankcase tried to activate his shoulder mounted cannons, but the system was too badly damaged. Cursing loudly, he was about to order his team to retreat when the sound of sirens reached him.

Jazz spun violently into the street directly behind the Decepticons, Prowl in hot pursuit. The Mazda and police cruiser quickly transformed, and the pair began firing at the vulnerable Decepticons with a vengeance. Crankcase quickly rallied his troops, firing at the newcomers, but it proved to be too little too late as the rest of the reinforcements arrived. Artemis Prime rounded the corner at a slower pace than his companions, but looked no less impressive as his massive armoured form began accelerating toward the enemy.

As the Decepticons took in the sight of what looked like a heavily modified Cybertronian combat tractor bearing down on them, white and blue armour shrugging off their fire as thought it were water, it began to dawn on them finally that they were in far deeper trouble than they had at first thought. Their resolve broke altogether moments later as, all six tyres screeching and smoke-stacks billowing, the massive armoured vehicle accelerated straight at their lines, showing no sign at all of stopping.

With a deafening roar, Artemis barrelled into the knot of warriors, crushing or throwing aside everything that got in his way. Crankcase was the last to be hit, and ended up being pinned to Artemis' fender as he drove recklessly through the stacked human vehicles that the Decepticons had been using as a stockade. Crushed and torn, the Decepticon weapons specialist was finally thrown clear as Artemis braked hard, spinning into a slight drift as he did so. With fading optics, Crankcase stared up as the metal monster transformed, reshaping and contorting until finally a massive warrior stood in its place.

"Who are you?" the broken mech managed to gasp. Artemis glared balefully at him, activating his arm mounted weapons and taking aim at the prone Decepticon.

"The future", came the deep, grave reply, before Crankcase's world ended in a flash of brilliant light.

* * *

Author's note: Well, here it is folks! Chapter two at last. On to the usual suspects... 

Transformers is the property of Hasbro/Takara and their affiliates, not myself. The Prius belongs to whoever makes 'em. So does the Mazda. Police cruisers generally belong to the police.

Artemis Prime belongs to Prime Revolver, my good friend. Don't worry, kiddo; he might be acting a bit dark and creepy all of a sudden, but rest assured there's a good reason. His alt. mode is based on the 'Transformers: Titanium' range of toys, specifically the Ultra Magnus re-paint of the 'War Without End' Optimus Prime. It's such a cool space-age truck thingy, I borrowed it for Art. I think he'd like it.

Finally, Lewison Falls belongs to me. And if, by some unpleasant happenstance there is _actually_ a real-life Lewison Falls somewhere in Colorado (which is also not mine, in case you were wondering!), then they have my apologies. I'm sorry I said I own you. And I'm sorry my giant robots blew you up.

Thanks for reading. All comments and criticisms will be greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Three

"_The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh for me to lie down in green pastures... Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I fear no evil; for thou art with me..."_ - Book of Psalms, chapter 23 (excerpts), The Bible, _King James version_

_Lewison Falls, Colorado, USA, z- five days_

Artemis Prime surveyed the scene of carnage before him, and felt a low growl of rage building in his chest. This was Overlord's work, he was sure of it. All the intelligence reports said that this 'Starscream' was leading the attack, but it was all too familiar. He wasn't sure how, but he could sense his old nemesis. It was real and ethereal to him all at once, like something that he could feel that wasn't really there, like the memory of a dream. His senses screamed with Overlord's presence, and yet there had been no sign of him. Then again, he had yet to see this 'Starscream' character, either. He felt as though he were piecing something together, but didn't yet know what the picture was going to be.

Artemis was aware of tense, worried glances passing between his colleagues and himself. He couldn't blame them; they were used to a different kind of war, from a very different time. His was a more urgent kind of war, a war against far greater odds. A war where he could afford to give no quarter, as the enemy would not be offering him one and would never retreat. He was acutely aware of how very different this time was to his own, all of a sudden, and briefly wondered how his _modus operandi_ compared to his father's. Looking into the worried optics of his new colleagues, he could see that it varied enough to cause concern.

Mere seconds later, a stab of pain snapped Artemis violently from his reverie. An impact from some kind of solid shot weapon ricocheted from the armour on the back of his left shoulder joint, spinning Artemis away from the others. A quick scan showed him both that he was not severely injured, and told him the location of the shot's source, a cross junction further down the road. His tactical systems snapped on-line with mercurial speed, quickly activating his shoulder mounted rocket clusters. By the time Jazz, Prowl and the twins had started moving for cover and bringing their weapons to bear, Art had located and locked on to a group of Decepticon energon signatures and opened fire.

As the group of homing missiles sped toward their targets, Artemis mused that how things _had_ been done no longer really mattered. If he didn't succeed here, they would be fighting his war soon enough...

O o O o O

"Dinobots, attack!" Grimlock roared, deciding to break the deadlock that had formed between his forces and the Decepticon battle group that faced them.

As one, the five ancient warriors charged. The ground shook with each massive footfall, the multiple impacts shaking loose any last vestiges of glass from the windows that overlooked the scene. As they charged, Swoop, Sludge Slag and Snarl converted to their dinosaur forms, the latter roaring loudly and belching forth streams of super-heated gases at the enemy lines. Swoop, with the advantage of flight, sped forwards, raining fire down from above as his team-mates closed the distance to the entrenched Decepticons. Standing at the back of that formation, Overlord mused that, not a few weeks ago, he would have found the sight more than terrifying.

As it was, with his new-found sense of invulnerability, he found the rampaging mechanical reptiles almost laughable. Were they so stupid that they really thought that they could defeat him, few as they were? He knew that these Dinobots prided themselves on their courage, on their unwillingness to bend against any odds. From his position, he had to wonder if it truly was courage, or simply blind ignorance of the danger they faced. With a sharp nod to his warriors, he sent them forward to engage the Autobots, content to stand back and watch the carnage for a while.

With twin bestial roars, Apeface and Snapdragon counter-charged the rapidly approaching Dinobots, closely followed by the Insecticons. Behind them, Blitzwing transformed to his jet form and took to the air, while Thundercracker, Roadhog and Cyndersaur held back, laying down a hail of covering fire. Apeface, the faster of the Terrorcon twins, quickly changed forms to his gorilla mode, dropping to all fours and knuckle-running straight for Grimlock. Seeing the threat, the Dinobot leader sub-spaced his blaster and brought his sword to bear in a two-handed grip, swinging the blade in a wide arc and howling a challenge. Apeface rolled under the assault, using the change in momentum to bring both fists crashing down into Grimlock's chest plate. The sheer force of the impact forced Grimlock to stagger backward, and Apeface pressed the attack, wrestling his opponent to the ground.

Across the street, Snapdragon and the Insecticons had engaged Slag, Sludge and Snarl. Shrapnel, Kickback and Bombshell were swarming over Sludge, Shrapnel's replicant technology ensuring that every second saw more of their hard-light 'clones' enter the fray. At the centre of the melee, Snapdragon's beast form was trading gouts of plasma fire with Slag, a stream of green plasma fire battling against the red fire issuing from the Triceratops. Snarl, once more in his robot form, was desperately fighting against yet more of the Insecticon-clones, whilst trading fire with the other Decepticons. But they were far from outdone.

Grimlock realised that he had made a rookie mistake, and had underestimated his opponent's strength. He had missed with his sword for a second time, and the quick ape-mech had managed to grab a hold of him from behind. With a grunt of exertion, Apeface spun his body around, building enough momentum to throw his quarry into and through the outer wall of the nearest building. Grimlock twitched, then stopped moving, buried beneath several tonnes of wall and ceiling. Grinning wildly, flushed with the earliest sensations of impending victory, he turned his back on the Dinobot commander, transforming to his mech form as he did so.

"Lets trash these slaggers!" he yelled, raising his ion rifle and taking aim at the hulking form of Sludge. He fired, laughing loudly and stupidly, relishing the sheer joy of wanton destruction. His aim was haphazard, and only a few of the rapidly fired shots were on target. Those that hit barely tarnished the thick flank armour of Sludge's hide, eliciting an enraged bellow from the brontosaur, but little else. It didn't matter to Apeface, though, who simply continued firing gleefully. "Destroy them all!" he yelled to his comrades.

"Me Grimlock say, destroy _them_!" The deafening bellow of his previous opponent, and the sound of displacing rubble, made Apeface spin on the spot. The last thing he saw was Grimlock's black armoured gauntlet, driving toward his head with astonishing speed.

With a sickening _crunch_, and a shriek of twisting metal, Grimlock drove his fist into, then through Apeface's head. Red optics ablaze with fury, the Dinobot grabbed his quarry's body before it dropped, and with a grunt of exertion hurled it bodily at the Insecticons. With a grin hidden by his battle mask, sword in hand, the massive warrior ran forward to aid his friends. He knew, deep in his processor, that the other Autobots would never understand his approach to combat, his 'sledgehammer' style tactics. But he lived for moments like this, when the fighting was hardest, and he could bring all of his skill and might to bear. In moments like this, when the red mist descended, he felt truly alive.

Overlord watched all of this with a mixture of dispassionate curiosity and mild frustration. A brief smile flickered across his faceplate, colder than the void, as he watched Grimlock kill the thug, Apeface. He watched with increasing ire as the Dinobots found their second wind, and began the wholesale slaughter of Shrapnel's creations. His frustration began to take over his fascination, because while he stood here watching an otherwise entertaining display of outright violence, he was still no closer to finding what he wanted. He still had yet to find Optimus Prime. And because of that fact, this pointless fight needed to end.

There was no warning. No battle-cry, no announcing scream or report of weapons fire. One second, Grimlock and his team were beginning to fight back, doing what they did best and winning against seemingly insurmountable odds. The next, there was blinding light, searing heat, and the unnerving sensation of powerless flight as the world was thrown violently onto its side. And there was pain; Grimlock couldn't remember a time when something had hurt so much. Something at the back of his neural network wondered at the sheer strength of this new weapon, whatever it happened to be. At the front, Grimlock's mind was far more preoccupied with regaining his footing and clearing his vision. As his visual systems re-booted and came back on-line, Grimlock looked up from where he lay sprawled across the pavement, and assessed his team.

Slag, Snarl and Sludge were in a similar state to himself, trying desperately to reorientate themselves. Just under a hundred metres away, a pitiful heap of tangled metal signalled where the youngest team member, Swoop, had been punched viciously from the air by the shockwave. The pteranodon wasn't moving, and as the fact registered with Grimlock a wave of concern and anger washed over him. As he dragged himself upright, he snapped his head from left to right, eager to vent that anger on whoever had done this.

He quickly found the perpetrator. A large, red and silver-white mech was striding slowly and purposely toward the Dinobots, optics alight with eerie green energies. The Decepticon was smiling coldly, an expression completely at odds with his aggressive stance. Grimlock squared himself against this new threat, taking in at once just how big this newcomer was; easily a head taller even that Prime, if not as heavily set. His movements were lithe and graceful, speaking of well-controlled power. This appraisal took less than a second, and a second later Grimlock decided that he wasn't impressed.

"Me Grimlock, king of Dinobots!" he yelled, by way of a challenge. "Who you, puny Decepticon?"

"I am darkest night", came Overlord's hissed reply as he continued walking slowly forward, "I am death's cold embrace. I am the Destroyer's dark harbinger, the devourer of worlds, the end of days. I am Overlord!"

"You talk big", Grimlock retorted, almost laughing. "Me Grimlock want to see if you fight as big as you talk!" With that, he charged forward, followed seconds later by the rest of his team. Overlord simply stopped, a look of ghostly malevolence crossing his features, quickly followed by a cruel sneer. He stooped slightly, bringing his right hand across himself and downward a little. With a sharp gesture, he brought his hand back up again in a wide vertical arc, like a magician's flourish. The air directly in front of him rippled, then exploded outward in a coruscating arc of directed energy. The wall of hellish, scouring light screamed toward the Dinobots, crashing over them and throwing them into the air like toys. Grimlock was barely aware of being thrown through the side of a building at an upward angle, before colliding with another building. And then the world went dark.

O o O o O

Time had stopped for Artemis. The Decepticons had sent reinforcements into the area, obviously having heard that the command and control elements of the Autobots were present. The streets had begun to fill with more and more troops, gathered by the Decepticons on Cybertron. Even one of the Decepticon gestalts, Bruticus, had started heading toward the area, but had been waylaid by Defensor. The feuding behemoths dominated the immediate skyline, each crashing footfall sending minor tremors through the surrounding suburbs.

Not that Artemis noticed any of this. His whole world had boiled down to a seemingly endless melee, surrounded by a sea of of broken and dying mechs. Around him, all he could hear was the sounds of combat, as he and the tight knot of Autobots that had joined him fought back the tide. His squad of combatants had joined with another team, and now the nine of them formed a determined island amongst the still-active and the fallen.

To Art's left, the twins and Jazz were weaving around one another, the three fluid fighters trading blows and fire with a handful of the larger 'Con grunts. Art looked over just in time to see one broad shouldered mech landing a glancing punch against Sideswipe, only to be met with a cry of unbridled fury from Sunstreaker. The yellow warrior grabbed the Decepticon's arm, and proceeded to kick him in the side so hard that the mech was forcibly removed from his limb. With a savage grin, Sunstreaker waded back into the fight, using the arm as an impromptu club, whilst being covered by his younger brother and his flare gun. Moving around them with dance-like steps, the silver form of Jazz struck out with unnerving speed and accuracy, using his new Alternator form to full effect, and obviously revelling in his new-found strength.

To Art's right, Prowl had teamed up with Bumblebee and Sureshot, a recently transferred sharpshooter from one of the Cybertronian colonies. The tactician and the long-limbed youth flanked the yellow mini bot, and the three of them were busy mowing down any foe that strayed too close with controlled bursts of fire. Behind him, Inferno and Hoist fought side by side, grimly covering the rear of the formation and each other.

At the centre of the storm, Artemis lashed out with deadly accuracy, killing with almost every strike or shot. His weapons systems were running hotter than they had done for some time, constantly switching on when Art needed ranged power more than his hands. Every so often, when he had a brief gap in the fighting, Artemis would brace himself and fire a volley of missiles at any passing Decepticons, or send them coursing around the nearby scenery to deal with nearby enemy emplacements. His every motion spoke of centuries of warfare, deadly and precise. Inside, the combat left him feeling cold. Each mech he killed was just one more dead, one more spark for the butcher's bill that Overlord had forced to be tallied. And for each that passed, a small part of Artemis Prime cried.

As the last of the latest wave of Decepticons were cut down, Artemis stopped to take stock of the situation. His tactical systems showed him the displacement of the Autobot forces, green icons layed over a map of the city. Any mechs that were reading as injured showed up in red, and currently these were the more numerous. Nearby, a group of five signals showed him that the nearest battle-group, the Dinobots, were heavily engaged. They were just three blocks away, and Artemis made the snap decision to go and reinforce their position.

Before he could give the order, though, the icons turned red, and an instant later one of them blinked out altogether; Swoop was gone. Art had briefly gotten to know the Dinobots, and couldn't believe that their status could have changed so quickly. Mere moments later, the signals were lost altogether, and panic began to set in. Such a rapid loss for the Dinobots could only herald one thing: Starscream was there. He was close, he had to be. And if that were the case, Artemis knew, then his own forces would need all the help they could get. As it happened, that help arrived just minutes later.

With a deafening roar of engines, the massive form of Jetfire's shuttle form hovered into view, casting a massive shadow over the combatants below. The red and white form came lower, his ventral access hatch opening, and Art was greeted by possibly the most magnificent sight he had ever seen. Optimus Prime, red and blue armour gleaming in the blue-white light from the shuttle's engine backwash, leapt from the access ramp and dropped the last twenty metres to the ground. The Autobot commander landed in a crouch, a spider web of cracks in the concrete emanating from where he had landed.

"Autobots, report", Optimus ordered, instantly business like as he stood to his full height and brought his blaster rifle out of subspace. Behind him, Jetfire transformed, mass-shifting to his normal, albeit very large, size as he landed.

"It's not going well", Artemis replied, stepping forward to greet his father. "Almost every team has taken some form of damage, casualties are rising slowly but steadily. And we just lost the Dinobots." Here Art moved a little closer to Optimus, lowering his voice slightly, deepest concern bleeding from each syllable. "It's _him_. It has to be. Starscream is close. But I don't think it's just Starscream, I can feel..."

Artemis didn't get to finish his line of thought as a high-pitched screech cut through the air. At the end of the street in which they were standing, a group of Autobots that Art didn't recognise had been running across the junction, heading to engage another group of the enemy. Just as they passed out of sight, a wall of greenish light and unearthly sound tore into them, throwing the group haphazardly across the street. Optimus and Artemis traded a terse glance, before rushing forward to investigate, the rest of their comrades close behind.

Before the group could get too far, a sleek, red-and-chrome sports car screamed around the corner at break-neck speed, far faster even than most Transformers could travel. A dark purple Decepticon insignia was emblazoned across the vehicle's hood, leaving no room for doubt as to its allegiance. As the Autobots spotted the car, they stopped, fanning out and raising their weapons. In response, the Decepticon slammed on his brakes, skidding sharply into a controlled drift. The car began to twist and reshape, contorting and growing until, as it finally came to a halt, it had been replaced completely by the new Cybertronian Emperor.

"Starscream!"

"Overlord!"

Neither Optimus nor Artemis could contain their surprise at his appearance, each recognising him for who he was and blurting out his name in shock. A second later, as each realised what the other had said, the pieces fell into place. Watching as the two Primes finally saw the whole picture, Overlord nodded with satisfaction. Whoever the newcomer was, he already knew Overlord by his new name, and the fact intrigued him. Deciding to play on the moments confusion, he addressed Optimus.

"I _was_ Starscream", he crooned, his deep, resonant voice carrying volumes of menace. "I _am _Overlord. And I _will _be your undoing."

"What do you want here, Overlord?" Prime growled, raising his weapon threateningly. "These humans have done nothing to you, and there is no tactical advantage to being here. Leave, now."

"What I want, Prime, is simple. I wanted you, here. I had to create something large enough that your heroic tendencies could not help but kick in. You see, I want something you have, something that belongs to me. You know what I mean. _Give it to me!_"

"You will never get the Matrix of Leadership, Overlord, not while I live!"

"Oh, I will get it, Prime. I guarantee it. Even if I have to pry it from your cold, lifeless fingers... It will be mine!"

* * *

Author's Notes: First things first, Transformers and all associated characters belong to Hasbro/Takara Inc., not myself. As ever, more's the pity...

Artemis Prime belongs to the lovely Prime Revolver, who has been a constant support and friend. Thanks you. What more can I say?

And finally, Lewison Falls belongs to me. Or at least this one does. Any other Lewison Falls, real or imagined, belongs to someone else entirely. So there.

Thanks for reading chapter three, please review! Pleeeeeaaaaaassssseeeee!!!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Four

"_The road to damnation is paved with good intentions..." - _Anonymous

_Lewison Falls, Colorado, USA, z- five days_

The moment he had seen Overlord, Art's whole life had flashed before his optics. Every memory, every moment from the instant he was sparked to right where he stood, was tainted with the Decepticon's presence. Born into a losing battle, into a galaxy rife with more pain and death than it had seen since the last time the Destroyer had walked the stars, he had lived constantly in the shadow of Overlord's reign of terror. And now here he stood before him, chrome-white armour slowly being stained red by the sunset, optics alight with greenish bale-fire that left slight trails of energy with each movement, he was the very image of evil incarnate.

And at this very moment, it seemed as though it would take either Primus or Unicron to stop him.

At Optimus Prime's command, the Autobots opened fire as one, a torrent of plasma flares, laser blasts and mass-reactive shells punctuating the air with a cacophony of dull thuds and staccato shrieks. Overlord made no move to dodge the deadly torrent as it tore toward him, instead he simply stood still as though facing nothing more dangerous than the wind. The shots impacted, a corona of explosive energies and thick smoke quickly enveloping him, blocking him from sight. After a few minutes more, Prime ordered a halt to the attack.

As the din died down, and the smoke cleared, a shudder of burgeoning panic began to work its way through the Autobot ranks. Overlord stood there, completely untouched, surrounded by a shimmering field of energy. Behind it he stood, chin slightly raised and optics powered down, looking for all the world as though he was enjoying a particularly delicious sensation. As the field dissipated and his optics came back on line, Overlord cast an almost pitying look toward the Autobots.

"Oh, so unwise", he purred, his voice soft and low. Then, with a quick gesture, he brought the world crashing down around them. The air rippled, and Overlord watched with no small sense of satisfaction, as he sent a shockwave crashing into the gathered enemy mechs. They stood no chance, so far as he could see, and the sight of them being thrown about like so much paper confirmed his thoughts. The bubble of elation at his apparent superiority burst seconds later, as he realised that he wasn't the only one left standing.

Optimus Prime had watched as his comrades had been hit by the force-wall, and had stayed standing, resolute, as the lethal energies had washed over them. As the wave had struck him, he had braced himself, but the effect was nothing as he had expected. Instead of being tossed into the air like a sparkling's toy, the attack had had a completely unforeseen result: the Matrix of Leadership had awoken. Sensing the presence of its siblings, and sensing the energy coursing toward it, the Matrix had reacted to save itself and its host.

Overlord looked at Optimus Prime, and was visited by a moment of doubt as he watched the last vestiges of a blue-white forcefield fade from his opponents form. Growling to himself, ignoring the signs of fatigue that were slowly building within his frame, Overlord spread his arms and powered up his thrusters. Bellowing with a mixture of rage and frustration, he accelerated sharply, throwing himself forward at full speed. Overlord crashed into Prime's midsection, his momentum picking up the Autobot leader and hurtling them both toward the far end of the avenue.

Optimus took a moment to recover from the impact, then grabbed hold of Overlord's wings with both hands. With a grunt of exertion, he threw his weight downward, forcing them both toward the ground. As soon as he could gain purchase, Prime dug his feet into the concrete, tearing great gouges into the asphalt. With his new-found foothold, Prime used his full strength to plant his weight, then with a roar threw his opponent away from him. Overlord arced through the air, landing hard and skidding to a halt. Within seconds, he was back on his feet, blasters sliding from armoured recesses on his arms, and taking aim at Optimus. Overlord opened fire, strafing the area where Prime was standing and forcing him to dive for cover. Overlord lined up for another assault, but was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"Overlord, you're mine!" Overlord turned to face the voice, and found himself looking at the large, blue and white mech he had noted earlier. His hands had been replaced by weapons, blue light showing from the barrels as the cannons primed. "I've waited a long time for this," the newcomer growled. With that, Artemis Prime fired, sending incandescent streams of plasma streaking toward the Decepticon Emperor.

"Foolish sparkling! You dare to stand in my way?" Overlord retorted, seemingly unconcerned as he raised another forcefield, the energy wall absorbing the impacts with ease. On the inside, he was screaming with fury; this was taking far too long, and he had spent too much energy on this fight already. He could feel the writhing power of the two Matrices as they wound around his spark, clamouring for their sibling, taking as much from him as they gave in return, or so it felt. He needed to finish this, and soon.

"You think you can defeat me?" he roared, and opened fire on the new target. As he did so, he noted that the other Autobots were slowly returning to their feet behind the newcomer. "Fool! Face my wrath!"

"I could say the same", Artemis countered, quickly dodging the shots, then bracing himself into a wide stance. "But talk is cheap. Time for you to reap the whirlwind!" He clenched his fists, which had reformed in place of his cannons, and threw his head back. The missile pods on his shoulders extended, and more ports opened on his upper arms and chest, revealing dozens of micro-warheads. With a cry of "_Hellstorm, fire!_", more than forty missiles of assorted sizes screamed skyward, creating a spider web of contrails that briefly wreathed their creator. The weapons curved through the air, aiming straight for Overlord with unerring accuracy. Spent by the attack, Artemis collapsed to the ground, his battle-mask retracting, his air vents whining as he sought to cool his systems quickly. Replicating so many shots at once always took a lot out of him, but the result was worth it.

The missiles impacted, the noise deafening as the warheads detonated. Most of them exploded against Overlord's shielding, but some got through, and as he staggered backward a shout of excitement rippled through the Autobots; he was weakening, and it showed. Optimus gave another command to attack, and the warriors joined their leader as he opened fire. Slowly, the weight of fire forced Overlord backward, as more and more of the shots got through his defences and impacted directly against his armour. In desperation, he gathered his strength for one last shockwave. But, his power wearing thin, the wave did little more than knock some of the enemy from their feet, leaving the two Primes and the twins stunned but standing.

"Give it up, Overlord", Optimus said, stepping forward menacingly and raising his blaster. "Leave now, and keep your life."

There was no response. No threats, no curses or screamed retorts. Just silence, cold and deathly as the grave. Overlord stood to his full height, a look of petulant rage crossing his features, the light spilling from his optic ports brightening as he began to concentrate. A dull whine began to make itself heard, and a strong wind began to pick up. Around Overlord, a faint nimbus of light became visible, steadily building until he was surrounded by a sickly green halo. The whining increased, and the wind became steadily faster, quickly whipping into a storm. Above, the sky grew dark behind the haze of smoke and ash, as clouds began to form above the unearthly tempest.

"Reap the whirlwind, you say?" Overlord hissed, his voice reverberating from his surroundings, and echoing inside the minds of all present. Lightning split the sky, and thunder roared, merging with the deep, menacing timbre of his words. "You could have spared yourselves, and this pitiful world. Now, I will destroy you all, and all you cherish, to take what is mine!"

Slowly, Overlord spread his arms wide, and gently lifted from the ground. He hovered, just a few feet up, and raised his head to the sky. The strength of the etheric storm increased sharply, with Overlord at its epicentre, the winds buffeting the Autobots with increasing force. As the wind speed picked up to hurricane levels, they tried firing at the storm's source, but nothing could touch him. As the smaller Autobots ran for shelter, Artemis looked pleadingly at his father.

"You have to use the Matrix of Life!" he roared, fighting to make himself heard over the howling tempest. "It's the only thing that can stop him. I've seen this before, he'll destroy us all!"

"But that's exactly what he wants!" Optimus countered. "If I open the Matrix, I might just as well be giving it to him on a serving dish!"

Around them, energon laced lightning began to strike the ground, linking ground and sky with instantaneous strikes of terrifying energies. As the wind grew yet stronger, forcing father and son to duck down to avoid being swept from their feet, the pair stared at each other in a battle of wills. Each knew that the other spoke an element of truth, and each knew the dangers held within their own choices. And at the centre of the storm, as the buildings directly around them began to crumble and fly apart, and the energon-fuelled storm rose to deafening levels, Overlord stood, his face etched in an expression of raw, silent agony as he poured every last ounce of his spark into destroying those who opposed him...

_The Ark, Colorado, z- minus three days_

"_...It's the only way, father. You have to use the Matrix!"_

Sitting alone, high above the long-dormant engine ports of the _Ark_, Artemis Prime was deep in thought. His words at that fateful moment, just two days previously, haunted him still. They ran through his neural processor, malevolent whispers that refused to give him any peace. The large mech heaved a sigh, air vents hissing softly as he strained to control the tears that sprang, unbidden, every time one of the memories crept forth to plague him further.

"_...You told me that the Matrix would light our darkest hour! It's not going to get_ _any darker than this! You have to do it... NOW!"_

Fresh streams of coolant fluid streamed down Art's face-plate. How could he have been so _wrong_? Everything he had hoped, everything he had believed had been flawed, wrong from the outset. He had researched every single detail before setting out on this mission, before travelling into the past to save his father. He had believed that he knew the only possible course of action, that he had it all worked out. And because of his self belief, his pride, his _hubris_, he had nearly caused his father's death, and had damned the galaxy to the tyranny of Overlord...

_Optimus Prime had finally capitulated, coming around to his son's line of thought. He had released the locking mechanism on his chest plate, quickly moving to withdraw the Matrix of Leadership from it's holding fixtures. Standing in the face of the storm, he had opened the armour surrounding the Matrix of Leadership, unleashing the power within, incanting an age old litany as he did so._

"_Primus, guide my hand", he had said. "Deliver us from the Destroyer, in all his forms. As your servant, I beg of you, light our darkest hour."_

_Brilliant white light had surrounded Optimus then, as the Matrix of Leadership had answered his call. An brilliant beam of light tore forth from the centre of the venerable relic, so bright that all of the colour was bleached from the scene. With the force of a lightning strike, the stream of lethal energy struck Overlord. But, instead of forcing him back, or damaging him, the very worst happened as the Matrix lashed out at the Emperor. He began to absorb it._

Artemis' sobs grew louder and deeper as he recalled what had happened next. It was burned, indelibly, into his mind. His greatest mistake, forever etched into history...

_The blue-white intensity of the Matrix of Leadership's attack began to falter, then dim. For a horrifying instant, Prime's gaze locked with Overlord's over the stream of light, and he knew then that all was lost. The Decepticon, still grimacing in concentration, powered down his optics and began to concentrate even harder, calling on every last reserve he had. A growl escaped his vocaliser, which slowly grew into a roar, a sound of utmost hatred. And as he did so, the beam of light began to turn dark. Slowly, starting at Overlord's chest plate, and working it's way toward Optimus Prime, the colour of the Matrix's attack changed from white to dark purple._

_The corona of greenish energy that had been surrounding Overlord also changed colour, as the Matrices of Power and Combination fought against their brethren. The light playing around his frame became the colour of a deep bruise, an ugly mixture of purple and black, swirls of energon moving over the plates of his armour. Optimus fought back as best he could, offering the Matrix of Leadership as much of his own strength as he was able, but it was to no avail. Inexorable as the tides, the counter attack of Overlord's Matrices overcame his own._

_With a loud, resounding crack, the dark energies reached the core of the Matrix of Leadership. For an instant, all time seemed to hold still, as though the Universe itself were holding it's breath at the sight of the dark events taking place. Then, with a sickening lurch, everything restarted. Artemis cried out in desperation, Optimus cried out in pain, and Overlord cried out in abject elation as the final Matrix was torn from it's shell and into his chest plate._

_The sound that followed was terrifying in its volume and intensity. The high pitched, keening wail that came from the Matrices' union was far stronger than it had ever been before. It swept through all those nearby, reaching into and around their sparks like icy fingers, assaulting every sensory input on every level. The cry carried on long and loud, a sound of deepest woe and pain, mixed with power beyond imagining. A sound of something dark and terrible being born. A sound to chill death itself._

_As the noise finally faded, it was replaced by rich, deep laughter, completely maniacal. Overlord gazed at the heavens, at the world around him, at the pitiful Autobot insects before him, and he laughed. They were all his to control now, or to destroy on a whim. Nothing could stand in his way. However, as he became increasingly drunk on the power flowing through him, it occurred that he was not yet as strong as he should be. The Matrix of Leadership, of Life, was not yet fully integrated. He still needed a little time. Launching himself into the air and transforming to his jet form, he fled the scene, knowing that he would have his moment. And it would be soon._

The Autobots had been left reeling by the whole affair. But worst of all, had been his father's response. He hadn't said a word; he didn't need to. The pain, the loss, the fledgling ghost of a sense of _betrayal_... they had all been there, in those ice-blue optics. Artemis had begun to stutter something, _anything_, that might explain what had happened. But he couldn't, because he didn't know. Words failed him, and he had taken the only course of action he had felt open to him. He ran. As he transformed and quickly accelerated from the scene, he knew that the grief etched onto his father's features would be an image he would take with him to his death.

That was half the reason that he was sitting where he was; it was secluded, and he wouldn't have to face the various stares he had received from the other Autobots, the whispered accusations and the hushed conversations. He knew what they were all saying, that it was his fault the Matrix was gone, that he had doomed them all. But most of all, Artemis had gone out of his way to avoid his father, and in turn Prime had avoided his son. The worst of it was, he knew it _was_ all his fault. And he couldn't see any way to redeem the situation, or himself.

O o O o O

"You wanted to see me, Ratchet?" Prime asked as the office doors closed behind him with a gentle hiss. The Autobot Chief Medical Officer looked up from his workstation, regarding Prime with cool blue optics. The medic's features were always somewhat stern, but today they looked thoroughly grim. Considering the circumstances, Prime could understand why. Ratchet motioned for Prime to sit, and Prime did so, a questioning look forming on his own face.

"Yes, I did", Ratchet replied after a few moments, his voice carrying more than a hint of a sigh. "I'll come straight out with it, Optimus. I need your help."

For Ratchet to say those words, the situation must indeed be grave. In the aftermath of the battle at Lewison Falls, many of the Autobots had been left severely injured. The med-bay had been filled beyond capacity at first, and those mechs that had not been too badly damaged had had to wait for some time before they could be seen to. Those few that had medical training had been hard pushed to save as many as they had, but still so many had been lost. For two days, Prime had been repeating the list of names like a mantra. Cliffjumper. Ironhide. The Dinobots. Powerglide. If Ratchet needed his help to save just one more, then Prime would do whatever it took. No more would die this day.

"What do you need?" he asked, gently.

"I need you to talk to one of my patients", Ratchet said after a moment. "I can't get through to him. He's completely shell-shocked; barely recharging, not refuelling when he should. He won't even come in for basic repairs now that we've got everyone reasonably stable. He's even started ignoring my attempts to contact him. I need you to talk to him, try and bring him round, if you can." The CMO sat back in his chair, intertwining his fingers beneath his chin, apparently deep in thought.

"Wouldn't Jazz be better qualified for a job like that?" Prime asked, suddenly having a good idea as to who Ratchet was talking about. "I don't think I'm the best mech for the job right now..."

"You're the perfect mech for the job", Ratchet snapped, "because you're his father. Not to mention the fact that you're the reason he's not looking after himself. You need to do it, and you need to do it soon."

"No. I can't..." Prime began.

"You're going to, and that's final!" Ratchet countered angrily. "Don't make me make it an order, Optimus! You need to clear the air as much as he needs to know that he isn't at fault. And don't look at me like that, I know you know better!" He leaned forward, glowering fiercely at his commander. "For the first time in living memory, this place has been blessed by the presence of no less than _two_ Primes. And both of them have been avoiding each other and everyone around them because one of them made an honest mistake."

"You've talked to him then?" Prime asked, not quite meeting Ratchet's glare.

"Yes, I have", Ratchet replied, softening slightly. "He reminds me a lot of you, before you became Prime. There's a lot of the old Orion Pax in him, and a lot of Elita-One, too. He came here, at great personal risk, to save _your _life, Optimus, as much as to save everyone else. He knows that whatever happens, it's not going to end well for him. At Lewison Falls, he faced an enemy that he had never been able to defeat, because it was the right thing to do. And when he told you to use the Matrix against Overlord, he did it because he believed it was the only way. He couldn't see any other path. And in all truth, neither could anyone else.

"You know this as well as I do. And you also know that by avoiding the subject, you're destroying the morale amongst the others. Primus knows it's low enough already. So, here's the deal. Talk to him, or I declare you unfit for duty on grounds of mental instability, and I put Prowl in charge. Then I'll have him lock you both in a cell until either you both see sense, or the world comes crashing down around our heads. Whichever comes first, really. So, what's it going to be?"

"I take it you've already discussed this with Prowl?"

"He's already picked out your cell."

"Fine, I'll do it", Prime sighed, feeling completely outmaneuvered. He stood and walked to the exit, then turned back to his old friend. "Thanks", he said simply, offering a weak smile, then turned and left.

"Don't mention it", Ratchet grumbled, then turned back to his paperwork.

* * *

Author's Notes: Transformers does not belong to me. Probably never will do, more's the pity!

Artemis Prime belongs to my good friend Prime Revolver, without whom this story would not be possible. Thanks again, kiddo. Overlord belongs to me. Lewison Falls is also mine. That's it, pretty much.

Sorry this took so long to get finished. It took no less than three re-writes to get it right, and I'm still not overjoyed with it. But, it's the best I can do, so here it is. Two more chapters to go!


	5. Chapter 5

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Five

"_You cannot harm me... You cannot harm one who has dreamed a dream like mine." - _Jason Ironheart, _Mind War_, Babylon Five

_The Ark, Colorado, USA, z- three days_

Optimus Prime had been told where he could find Artemis by Ironhide, and he had very nearly smiled at his son's choice of location. He had sat in almost the exact same spot more times than he cared to count. In particular, the sunsets, as seen from the ridge directly above the _Ark_'s thruster assembly, were particularly spectacular. The quieting thought that Elita would love that place as well ran briefly through his processor, and Prime resolved at once to contact her, just as soon as the current crisis was over.

After an hour or so of procrastination, Prime slowly made his way up the beaten path to the ridge. He knew, in his spark, that Ratchet was right. He had looked closely into Artemis' spark since he had arrived, found out as much as he could about his future son. What he had found was a spark that had very nearly broken under the strain of a war unlike anything Prime had ever seen. He had seen an eagerness to idolise his father, a grim determination that the future could not be allowed to happen, and an inner strength that its owner probably didn't know was there.

But there had been no falsehood there, no hidden motive. He had come to this time with the best information he had, and he had tried to stop Overlord the only way he thought it could be done. And, in the end, he had made a mistake that would most likely cost them dearly in the near future. As Prime came to a halt a short distance from the crouched form of his son, he pondered briefly on how many mistakes he had made in his time, and how often others had been forced to pay the butcher's bill for those poor choices.

The answer was simple. Far too many. And now, Artemis Prime, last commander of the Autobots, was feeling the exact same pain Optimus felt on those occasions, and far, far worse. It occurred to Prime just how young Art was, a mere five hundred Earth years old. Sitting in deep contemplation, his shoulders slumped, he looked even younger to Optimus' optics. As the sun began its slow descent over the horizon, staining the sky orange and crimson, Prime swallowed the last of his pride and stepped forward.

"It's beautiful up here, isn't it?" he said, standing just behind the blue and white mech. Artemis made no move to respond. Concerned, Prime took a step forward and placed a hand on Art's shoulder. "Artemis?"

"Yes, it is beautiful", came the eventual, whispered reply. The young mech's voice was full to breaking point with grief, and Optimus felt as though his spark might shatter. He had done this to Art. "But it doesn't matter", the boy continued. "It won't stay that way for long."

Optimus sat down slowly next to his son, bending his right leg almost double, and resting his right arm on the raised knee joint. He turned to Art, and wasn't too surprised to see the tell-tale traces of dried coolant on his face-plate. His gold optics were dim, and the expression there spoke of massive depression. After a second, Optimus said "Ratchet tells me you're not recharging."

"No", came the barely audible response.

"Have you even had any energon rations?"

"A little. I haven't really felt like it."

"If you go into stasis lock, you won't be any good to anyone", Prime said gently, feeling a pang of guilt as it finally sank in that he had done this to his son. "I'm... I'm sorry, Artemis."

"What for?" Artemis asked, a small hint of annoyance showing just beneath the surface of his tone. "You're not the one that lost the Matrix, I am. You're not the one that nearly got us all killed. I am. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Yes, I have", Prime sighed, trying to find the right words. "I have neglected one of my most important duties as Prime. I have failed to look out for the well-being of one of my colleagues. Worse yet, the one I have neglected is my own son. I shouldn't have been angry with you, or avoided you, Artemis. Because as a close friend recently pointed out to me, you didn't do anything wrong."

"How can you say that?" Artemis shouted angrily, standing quickly and moving a few paces away from his father. "I came here to stop my future from happening. To stop you from dying, along with countless others. To stop Cybertron from being destroyed and this place from being left as nothing but ash. And instead, because I thought I knew best, I ended up _causing it_!" He turned his back on his father, and Optimus could hear gentle sobs forming in Art's vocaliser as he began to weep again. Standing, Prime walked slowly over to the youngster, gently placing his left hand on Art's right shoulder.

"Bad things happen, Artemis, whether we want them to or not. Sometimes, it doesn't matter which path we take, or how hard we try, they happen anyway." Prime's voice was low and gentle, and as Artemis turned to look at his father, he saw a mixture of sadness and pain on his features. "For a long, long time, I couldn't forgive myself for the death of your brother, Orion. I blamed myself, and as a result I ended up pushing away those closest to me... those that I loved. I wallowed in my sadness, let it consume me, until I all but destroyed myself.

"And then, a good friend told me something, possibly the most important lesson of my life. Accidents happen, and mistakes are made. As a human holy text reads, 'time and unforeseen occurrence befall all men'. But history is affected, not so much by the mistakes we make, or that which befalls us. Rather, it is our _reaction _to those events that define us and the world around us. It all comes down to accepting the things that happen, or fighting back, changing the things we can in an effort to change things for the better."

"So, your saying", Artemis replied, his tone a little sharp, "that I should pretend none of this happened?"

"No, I think you missed the point. I'm saying that yes, you made a mistake. And now you have a choice: do something to rectify that mistake, or indulge in self loathing and compound the mistake, until there is no longer anything that can be done. Starscream... Overlord hasn't yet been able to integrate the Matrix of Leadership fully, at least not yet, so it looks as though we may yet have a couple of days in which to act. The only question now is, are you with me?"

"Can... can you forgive me?" Artemis asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"No, son", Prime replied gently. "Because there is nothing to forgive. The only one that needs to forgive you, it seems, is you. But know this: though I haven't known you very long at all, I love you, my son. You tried something that few would have attempted, for the most noble cause of all. And for that, I am also very proud of you." Optimus gently lifted Art's chin and looked straight into his optics. "Don't ever forget that. Now come on inside, and we'll get you some energon. You'll be no good to anyone if you starve yourself to death. Especially not me."

And for the first time in far longer than Artemis cared to remember, he smiled; not a smile for the humour in his father's voice, nor even for feeling the warmth of emotion that radiated like a wave from the older mech. It was a smile of pure contentment, his worries briefly cast aside as he realised that, despite it all, he was precisely where he needed to be, and could do what needed to be done. Side by side, the two Primes walked slowly down the hillside, basking in the last rays of the setting sun.

_The Ark, Colorado, USA, z- thirty six hours_

"Diary on-line. Personal log, Artemis Prime, date June Twelfth, year two-thousand and eight. This will most likely be the last time I make an entry into this journal... in all truth, I don't even know why I'm making an entry now. Old habits die hard, I guess. There are some days where I wonder why I started it in the first place. But it doesn't matter now. In less than two days, the projected date and time we have for Zero Hour will be here, and whether we win or lose the day, I'm as good as dead anyway.

Not that it does any good to think like that. Whatever happens, I feel proud to have been here, at the beginning of the end. To stand by my father's side and face the darkness, in the hope of changing a future lost. I guess I can't really ask for more than that, a chance to put right so many wrongs. And, in the end, to see that happen, I will pay any price. It no longer comes down to courage, nor faith, nor even hope. It all boils down to fighting my best, come what may, and doing so to the bitter end.

The last few days have been truly amazing to watch. The Decepticons, Megatron's forces, that is, have been true to their word. They have aided us with unmatched vigour in trying to stop Overlord, since the events at Lewison Falls. Overlord's attacks on the humans, and even against us, have increased in number and ferocity, until the attacks have started to come every few hours. But every time, Megatron has helped to push back the tide. He hates Overlord with a passion, and while it is for a very different reason than my own, I can feel my self almost beginning to sympathise with him. 'Almost' being the operative word. If we can keep that ferocity pointed at Overlord and his forces, we might just survive. If not, well... I guess we'll see, won't we.

So far, our plans for the next two days are pretty simple. We're expecting a drop-off in Overlord's attacks soon; both my father and Megatron, who have both felt the touch of a Matrix, are in the belief that Overlord will be able to feel that the Matrices are close to combining, and will want to enjoy the moment, for want of a better term. However, Megatron has surmised that, knowing Overlord's egotistical approach to life in general, he won't be able to pass up a chance to show off his upcoming 'transformation', if given the proper opportunity for a suitably showy victory. I happen to agree on that point, and so we've come up with a plan.

We're going to give him that opportunity. Hound, Mirage, Trailbreaker and anyone else who has knowledge of holograms, are laying the bait as we speak. We're going to create an image of an advanced power station, right in the middle of the largest stretch of empty desert we could find; Megiddo Valley, Dakota. It's big, flat, and there isn't a human for literally hundreds of miles. It's perfect for our needs. Soundwave and Blaster are working on sending the bait via a 'leaked' transmission, telling anyone who can crack the code of a super-advanced source of energon, due to come on-line at midday tomorrow. I just hope he takes the bait.

If we hit him hard enough, fast enough, we might be able to destroy him before the third Matrix merges with the other two. At least, that's the hope. For now, we have no choice but to deal with the last few attacks, then sit back and wait for the fireworks. The pieces are set, the new war has begun. May Primus watch over us all. For the last time, this is Artemis Prime, signing out."

_Megiddo Valley, Dakota, USA, Zero Hour_

"Here they come!"

Hound was one of the first to spot Overlord and his forces making their approach, and was the first to call it out. Mere seconds later, the long-range sensors of every mech present picked up on the veritable cloud of enemy energon signatures. Standing side by side for the first time in millions of years, Megatron and Optimus Prime surveyed the oncoming horde with a mixture of anger, revulsion, and carefully-checked fear. Overlord had swelled the ranks of his forces to a size not seen since the first Great War, and the coalition forces arrayed behind the two veteran war-leaders seemed pitiful by comparison.

Optimus looked to his left, meeting the optics of his command staff with admiration and pride. Prowl, Jazz and, perhaps most importantly, Artemis, returned his gaze. The same nervousness he felt was mirrored on each of their faces, but he also saw a grim determination there, a willingness to go on that made a rush of affection for his friends and son rise in his chest. They were with him, no matter what, and that fact made Prime feel as though he could face any foe.

"Shame Grimlock 'aint here to see this", he heard Jazz say, breaking the silence with an almost cheerful drawl. "He'd have loved this."

"Illogical as it sounds, he would have loved every minute of it", Prowl agreed. "It was his idea of a good time!"

"Then lets win this one for him, and the Dinobots", said Prime, and his sentiments were echoed by his friends.

Megatron, in turn, looked to his own command staff. His old friend Soundwave was there, stoic as ever. Behind the indigo telepath, Snaptrap and Razorclaw waited for their orders, ready to rejoin their respective teams and begin the advance. Megatron nodded to each of them, receiving nods in return from Soundwave and the Predacon, and a silent swordsman's salute from the tall Seacon. Over the last few days, Megatron had gained a new respect for the abilities of the two gestalt commanders and their teams, and he now wasn't sure how they would fare without them; combined with the two Autobot gestalts, Superion and Defensor, Pirahnacon and Predaking gave the allies a two to one advantage in terms of giant mechs.

"Chances of survival: minimal", Soundwave announced in his usual, pragmatic monotone. "We will not win this day."

"Perhaps not", Snaptrap countered, yellow optics glaring at the Decepticon second in command. "It does not matter, in the end. All that matters is that we fight to the last, defending our home and our right to rule it. If we run, we damn ourselves and Cybertron in the process. We fight, and at the very least honour is fulfilled."

"Just for once", Razorclaw said, hooking a thumb at Snaptrap, "I agree with old fish-breath here. I'd rather _try_ to take out that slagger Overlord and die trying, than live life under his boot."

"I agree", Megatron followed, his voice grim. "Starscream... Overlord, will pay for what he has done to me. He is a base traitor of the worst kind, and he deserves a traitor's death. If I can get the chance to give him such, before the end, then it will be worthwhile."

"Frak that, I'm living!" If the offending line hadn't been uttered in Soundwave's dulcet tones, Megatron would have reproved the speaker. Instead, he gaped in surprise at his second, before breaking into laughter. In the end, he decided, it really didn't matter if he failed today. He would make sure he gave Overlord something to remember him by before he did.

O o O o O

Overlord's scream of fury was so loud, so piercing, that it cut through the audios of every mech present. The Emperor had landed ahead of his troops, self-assured of his own invincibility in the face of his enemy. He had proclaimed, loudly, that the human power station would be his, and then all survivors of his wrath would have the honour of watching his transcendence. It had been at around that point that the holographic power plant had disappeared, and the Autobot/Decepticon coalition had sprung its trap.

As the image flickered, then faded from view, the warriors that had been hidden within charged forward, taking Overlord by surprise and eliciting his angry cry. A tide of Cybertronian freedom fighters, newly arrived Autobots and newly added Decepticons loyal to Megatron and his forces tore forward, raising a chilling battle-cry. At their centre, three of the massive Guardian Sentinels strode forward with earth-shaking strides, the mighty Omega Supreme at their head. On this cue, the rest of the gathered warriors rushed forward.

Seeing their leader in danger, Overlord's forces swept down from above, pouring a torrent of energy bolts and missiles as they went. Not to be undone, Overlord himself roared in a fit of fury and, gathering all his strength, threw a wall of lethal energy toward his attackers.

"You dare to attack me and think you can _live_?" he screamed, his anger rising as the oncoming soldiers dove to avoid his attack. At their head, he saw Megatron and Optimus Prime charging directly toward him, and summoned another of the force-walls. Again, he succeeded in simply slowing their charge, as the veteran commanders took evasive action. "When will you learn, Megatron? You've lost!"

"Never!" Megatron retorted, snapping off a few shots at his nemesis from his fusion cannon. "You'll never defeat me!"

Overlord's reply was cut short, as a tightly packed series of shots slammed into his back. He had been so focussed on his former commander that the newcomer that had bothered him at Lewison Falls had managed to out-flank him; the youngster's name was Artemis Prime, his sources had informed him. The thought of two Primes infuriated him, and he had vowed to have some revenge on the new Prime. Spinning to face the new threat, Overlord quickly found himself attacked from a new angle altogether; Optimus Prime had approached at an oblique angle, and was now firing at him from a short distance away. As he turned to face the new threat, more fusion blasts tore into his flank from Megatron's position.

Whichever way Overlord faced, his two remaining opponents hammered away at his defences from different directions. He had raised energy shields to ward off the blows, but keeping the shields at full strength was taking more out of him than he would have liked. No matter what Overlord threw at his enemies, it didn't seem to be enough, and the distraction caused by Megatron and the two Primes circling around him and hitting him from all sides was infuriating. At the same time, he had come to the creeping realisation that while he fought here, the collected forces of the enemy had created a cordon around the small melee at the battle's centre, stopping reinforcements from reaching the Emperor. Overlord was alone, and he couldn't deal with his opponents as they were. He would have to deal with them together, not separately.

Engaging his anti-grav drives, Overlord rose into the air, bringing his knees up to his chest and crossing his arms. He focussed on the anger he was feeling at being tricked into coming here. He focussed on every memory he had of Megatron's mistreating him, of his defeat at the hands of Optimus Prime, of the destiny that had been his but denied him for so long by those around. He felt the rage growing, boiling behind his chest-plate, felt his spark pulsing with energy from the three Matrices. With one fluid motion, he stretched back out, throwing his arms wide. An energy pulse of thunderous proportions crashed forth, expanding from Overlord's position with terrifying speed and washing over the battlefield.

Almost every mech was thrown to the floor by the force of the blast. Those flight-capable mechs that were still airborne tumbled toward the ground, some managing to right themselves, others less fortunate. Even the three Sentinels were shaken. At the epicentre of the shockwave, Megatron, Optimus and Artemis lay stunned and prostrate, their systems reeling from the electro-magnetic fall-out of the blast. And at the centre of it all stood Overlord, hie eyes alight with unchecked malice. Striding forward, he moved toward Megatron and planted his right foot firmly against his former commander's chest. Activating his arm-mounted guns, he took careful aim at Megatron's head.

"I should have done this a long, long time ago", Overlord hissed. Then he fired...

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, after a huge slog, here it is at last! I hope that it meets up to standard. If the battle sequence seemed a bit disjointed or even awkward, that's because it's really just meant as a taster of the final chapter, which is in the works as we speak. The Apocalypse is well and truly nigh...

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor do I earn anything from this story. It all belongs to Hasbro. Overlord, in form and abilities alone, is all mine. Seeing as the rest is pure Starscream, it would be unfair to state otherwise.

Lewison Falls is mine, as per the disclaimer of a couple of chapters ago. The same goes for Megiddo Valley; if it really does exist, I apologise profusely. The whole thing started as a fairly fitting joke... a cookie goes to the first person to tell me where it comes from!

Finally, Artemis Prime belongs to my good friend Prime Revolver, and is on very kind loan. Thank you again, my friend. This is for you.

Thanks for reading! As ever, all comments are very much appreciated. And assuming I don't get more writer's block, chapter six will be on it's way in the next couple of weeks.


	6. Chapter 6

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Six

"_And they gathered them all together to the place that is called in Hebrew 'Har-Mageddon'." _- Book of Revelations, chapter 16, verse 16, The Bible

_Megiddo Valley, Dakota, USA, Zero Hour_

Snaptrap lived for moments like this. Sword in hand, he charged down the hill toward the approaching enemy, loosing a chilling battle-cry as he tore up the distance between himself and his nearest target. Behind him, his team mates followed in his wake, some in beast form, others in warrior form. As the battle lines closed, the Seacons opened fire around their leader, thinning the enemy troops enough that he would have free reign when he made contact. A mixture of cohesive energy, plasma fire and mass-reactive bolts tore into Overlord's forces, and seconds later he was among them.

The first mech fell to his blade with frightening ease, and Snaptrap revelled in his skill as he brought three more opponents to an equally sudden end, all with just two swift, precise movements. Around him, his team fought as one, and the commander became the centre of a hurricane of destruction. He noted as each of his team engaged the foe, and smiled inwardly in satisfaction at the carnage they wrought. Skalor, in his piranha form, spewed corrosive slime over one target with his back-mounted weapons, reducing the mech to molten slag in seconds; Nautilator and Seawing stood back to back, weapons running to red hot as they fired micro-rockets and particle streams at anything that passed nearby, scything down enemy mechs like wheat.

Snaptrap watched as Tentakill, in his squid form, lashed out at a passing drone with one long, sinuous tentacle, tearing the poor mech in half before he knew what had hit him. Jawbreaker, close behind him, unleashed a stream of plasma fire from his rifle, before spinning the weapon around to viciously club a passing opponent, staving in his cranium with ease. The brutish mech nodded to his commander, before grinning savagely and raising his weapon in salute. Snaptrap returned the salute, before spinning his sword deftly in his hand, reversing his grip and launching into a spinning, ballet-like cadence that sent him gliding through a tight knot of Cybertronians that had hoped to outflank him.

They never stood a chance...

O o O o O

In the distance, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe fought with every last ounce of their skill, nimbly circling around each other in their patented 'dance of doom'. As the battle ebbed and flowed around them, they swapped positions, Sideswipe mowing down swathes of the enemy with controlled bursts of fire when he couldn't reach them, and Sunstreaker stepping in with his lethal fists whenever the swirling melee got too close to them. Back to back, side by side, the twin mechs reaped an unholy whirlwind amongst the enemy drones.

Without warning, a sudden shift in the tides of enemy warriors pressed in on the brothers, pushing in on them from all sides. Sideswipe sub-spaced his rifle, and took to his own skill at martial arts. Lashing out with deadly strikes, each mech that approached them was quickly despatched, only to be replaced by two more. Slowly, the pair were forced closer together, until it looked as though they would be over-run. Seconds from defeat, salvation arrived from an unlikely source.

A deafening, bellowing horn sounded nearby, and before either twin could identify the source, the massive form of a purple and grey petrol tanker tore past, smashing through the enemy and throwing them aside like so much paper. Octane braked hard, spinning his trailer out wide and crashing into yet more enemy warriors, and beginning to transform as he did so. Twisting and contorting, the tanker quickly gave rise to the familiar shape of the Decepticon triple-changer and weapons specialist. Wings rising above his horned head, yellow optics flashing with glee, he looked for all the world like their personal guardian devil. He nodded in salute to the two warriors, before switching forms again and soaring into the air, eager to join the aerial fire-storm forming above the embattled troops below.

O o O o O

In the skies above the main battle, things were not going so well for the beleaguered allies. Silverbolt surveyed the situation with ease borne of more aerial combat than he cared to recount; the enemy not only outnumbered Prime and Megatron's forces in total, but the vast majority of those forces were flight capable. He banked violently to the left, narrowly avoiding a series of lethal impacts along his wings. Around him, Air Raid, Fireflight, Skydive and Slingshot wove a deadly aerial ballet against Thundercracker and his air-borne hordes. Jetfire, Blades, Powerglide and Cosmos were all nearby, on the outer edges of the fur-ball, alongside Divebomb, Dirge, Thrust and Ramjet from Megatron's numbers.

Silverbolt watched in horror as Thundercracker transformed, the blue and grey seeker obviously preparing a sonic pulse. With the local air-space as heavily packed as it was, he wouldn't be able to miss. Deep within his spark, the deep, rumbling voice of Superion stirred, warning against the impending danger to his team-mates. As he felt the slow, unstoppable intellect caress his own, wrapping itself around his mind, Silverbolt came to a snap decision. The Autobots weren't supposed to reveal their gestalts until they were called for, but if he didn't act quickly, he wouldn't have a team to combine with.

"Aerialbots, evasive pattern Archangel. Transform and unite!" As one, the Aerialbots span into a tightly packed formation and began to dive. Thundercracker's attack passed harmlessly over them, as the five jets began to twist and reform, connection hard-points opening and interlink cables snaking between them. Within each, they could hear their combined form calling out to them, desperate for release, and as they merged they called out with one voice, bellowing their name along with him; a name that described everything they were, everything he was. Vast, powerful, unstoppable...

"_SUPERION!_"

Roaring his name to the heavens, announcing his presence and his power with one word, Superion crashed feet first into the ground, landing in a perfect crouch and sending a shockwave of dirt and debris crashing into the gathered mechs at his feet. He paid them no attention, insects that they were. Standing slowly, the colossal Autobot strode forward, wreaking destruction with every movement. In the distance, taking their lead from the Aerialbots, Overlord's own giant-teams began to combine. The massive forms of Bruticus, Devastator, and the new forms of Abominus and Menasor rose up to face this new threat, and the war took on a whole new scale.

O o O o O

Calculating and controlled to the last, Soundwave lashed out at his attackers with cold precision. Around him, his assorted creations fought with all they had, eliciting a small feeling of pride, and sending it fluttering through the stoic mech's spark. His blaster rifle long since spent, he had resorted to the use of his sword, carving precise arcs through the encroaching enemy. One large mech, a full head taller than the communications officer, strode forward, bent on his destruction. Ravage, Rumble and Frenzy saw to it that he never got the chance. Soundwave delivered the _coup de grace_, and smiled inwardly.

_The screams of the enemy are music to my audios_. His old battle-cry and motto sprang unbidden to mind, and Soundwave found the words deliciously fitting. Beginning another set of utterly lethal attacks, he found the cacophony of noise around him most pleasing. He began to aim his strikes such, that each scream drawn forth from a dying foe changed the background noise, until he found himself orchestrating a symphony of pain and death. Deep inside, the cold telepath revelled in the slaughter, and the terror it sowed amongst the enemy.

Behind him, his opposite number fought with equal fervour, desperately fighting for survival. Blaster had unleashed all of his creations, and with Steelfang and Ramhorn by his side, while the others aided Soundwave's brood, the Autobot communication specialist fought with all his considerable skill. He wove amongst the enemy with dance-like motions, lashing out with controlled strikes or sporadic bursts from his pistol. Whenever he had energy to spare, he activated his speakers and blasted the enemy with directed sound so strong and loud that it disrupted neural pathways, and shattered glass and armacrys plating with ease.

Blaster found it ironic that he was fighting alongside Soundwave; the indigo mech, who had once been his teacher and mentor, had been his enemy for a long time. The hatred between them was far too well ingrained to pass now. But, for the moment, they fought in perfect unison, battling a shared foe; strange as it sounded to his own mind, Blaster actually found himself enjoying the fact, taken back to memories of times past. It was a pity, on so many levels, that a moment like this would most likely never come again.

O o O o O

For nigh twenty minutes, the battle surrounding Overlord raged. Optimus Prime, Megatron, and the newcomer Artemis Prime, had taken it upon themselves to fight him personally. They surrounded him, each taking turns to draw his fire, stopping him from bringing his full strength, or his energon-fuelled shock abilities, to bear. He fought on regardless, his frustration mounting as each time he got close enough to one of them to be threat, the others drew him away with devastating volleys of fire. It had to end, and it had to end now.

Gathering all of his strength, Overlord hovered into the air, drawing his limbs inward and curling into a near-foetal position. He felt the three Matrices respond, especially the Matrix of Power. He felt their plainsong peak, the howling in his audios reaching a brand new crescendo. All of his rage, all his lust for power, channelled into one, focussed point. And with a roar that would have made the Destroyer himself flinch with fear, he unleashed that pent up energy, throwing his limbs wide and releasing a massive blast of energy. The coruscating shockwave screamed outward, knocking everything in it's path aside, like leaf-litter before a hurricane.

What the pulse lacked in raw destructive power, it made up for with sheer impact velocity. Even the three Supreme-class mechs that Prime and his forces had mustered were forced to stagger and check their balance, lest they come crashing down on friend and foe alike. Directly around Overlord, Megatron and the two Primes lay prostrate, completely stunned by the impact they had received. Revelling in the destruction he had wrought, and that which was to come, Overlord allowed himself a triumphant smile. He would not only be able to have his final revenge on his former commander, but he had the Decepticon's greatest foe at his mercy, Optimus Prime himself. Slowly, he walked over to Megatron's prone form, roughly kicking his former leader, and rolling him onto his back. He placed one heavy foot firmly against Megatron's chest-plate, and took aim at the silver-white mech's face.

"I have waited such a very, _very_ long time for this," he hissed, leering into Megatron's optics and watching as they powered back on-line. He watched as a glimmer of fear crept into their crimson gaze, and nodded once, telling Megatron with that one simple gesture that this was the end. Megatron's optics widened briefly with shock, and Overlord fired...

Before the shots could impact, Overlord was thrown sideways, the ground rushing up to meet him. He looked up, and was surprised to see a familiar face staring back at him with blue-visored optics. Jazz gave him a grim smile, and as Overlord watched with horror, the Autobot's optics took on a green hue that he knew all too well.

"Surprised to see me?" Jazz said, his voice uncharacteristically low and menacing. Without warning, he stooped and drove his right fist straight at Overlord's face. Acting purely on instinct, such was the speed of the attack, the Decepticon lashed out, grabbing Jazz's fist mid-swing and pulling the silver mech off-balance. At the same time, he brought his legs up, knees to his chin, and lashed out with his full strength, kicking Jazz away from him. Rallying quickly, Overlord scrambled to his feet, and watched as the Autobot did the same.

Overlord gathered his strength once more, and threw a focussed energy blast at Jazz, intent on destroying the troublesome mech with as little effort as possible. His cry of victory died in his vocaliser, however, as Jazz simply raised one armoured gauntlet, and the shockwave dissipated without a trace. Furious, Overlord gathered yet more energy, this time firing a blinding bolt of confined energy. Jazz reacted with preternatural speed, catching the bolt in one hand as one would a ball. He held it up for Overlord to see, then crushed it before him, the energies fading with no effect.

"You don't get it, do you?" Jazz said, hissing between clenched dental plates. Faster than optics could follow, he ran forward, catching Overlord by the throat and lifting him from his feet. "You aren't paying attention." He leaned closer, until his visor loomed in Overlord's vision, blocking out all else. "You aren't the only one that can hear it's song. Can't you feel it? Can't you hear it calling to me? It's feeding _me_ too; it accepted me before it ever tasted you, you sorry son of a glitch. You know, the humans have a phrase. 'Pride goeth before a fall'. You threatened us all with your pride. And now, it's time for you to fall, Emperor."

Overlord abruptly felt his primary air intake close off, as the black-plated fist around his throat began to close. The Autobot was right; he could feel the energy of the Matrix of Power flowing away from him, and into the mech currently squeezing the life from his systems. He could hear the waning throb of the three Matrices, feel his spark giving way... the other two Matrices! That was it! Focussing on their strength, Overlord began to call on the Matrix of Leadership and the Matrix of Combination.

Slowly, he felt their strengths begin to fight their brother, closing it off from both himself and Jazz. As he heard their voices grow stronger, he watched in elation as the poisonous green glow began to fade from his enemy's optics. He felt the grip on his throat slacken, and he grinned wolfishly into the now worried features of his attacker. He grabbed Jazz's arm, then with one vicious motion threw the special ops agent away like a rag-doll. Throwing back his head, Overlord began to laugh, long, loud and deep.

"When are you all going to learn?" he shouted, his voice carrying eerily across the roar of combat that swept across the valley. "My ascendancy is upon us. I have already won, and pride or no, I cannot be stopped!"

Optics locked on the heavens, Overlord raised his right hand in a summoning gesture. The previously azure vista rippled, and dark storm clouds swirled into existence, blotting out the sun. Thunder rumbled, and roared into violent life, crashing arcs of purplish lightning splitting the skies and throwing the features of all below into harsh relief. Fat droplets of rain began to fall, quickly gathering speed and number. The torrential downpour pattered loudly from the armour of every mech present, the noise almost deafening. And at the centre of it all, wreathed in lightning and swirling energon, stood Overlord.

With languid movements, he released the catches holding his chest-plate in place. Two bright orbs of light gently floated free of his frame, one blue, the other a pale green. As Optimus, Artemis and Megatron watched in horror, the green orb split, forming the separate Matrices of Power and Combination. They began to orbit the Matrix of Life, preparing to integrate themselves with it's energy signature. Zero Hour was finally upon them; if they were to stop it, it had to be done now.

As one, Megatron and the two Primes opened fire. Megatron's fusion cannon barked into life, violet death pouring toward Overlord. Optimus fired his own blaster rifle, the orange tinted blasts following those of Prime's nemesis. Artemis opened all of his missile ports, and launched into another of his Hellstorm attacks. Missiles and plasma streamed toward their target, but the hoped for impacts never came. The lethal attacks simply fell short, destroyed by the powerful forces surrounding the Emperor. Nothing could touch him; they were too late.

"We have to get closer!" Optimus yelled over the howling winds and the roar of battle. "If I can disrupt the energy field, we might be able to stop the Matrices from merging."

"That's suicide!" Megatron countered. "You'll be torn apart!"

"It has to be done!" Prime began to stride forward, intent on getting as close as he could. He knew full well that such a move would most likely kill him. If he wasn't torn apart by the fields surrounding Overlord, then the fallout of disrupting the merging process would kill him. But it was a price he would pay, if that was what was required. He readied himself, preparing to make a run at Overlord, but was stopped by a plasma blast striking the ground at his feet. He looked up at the source, and met the steady gaze of his son. The younger mech's expression was clear; he wanted to do this, and wasn't about to let his father sacrifice himself for the greater good. And it was then that Optimus spotted the silvery half-sphere held tightly in Artemis' left fist...

O o O o O

"_How do you know you won't be able to go back if this all goes wrong?"_

_Optimus sat beside his son, just a few hours after the Autobots had met to discuss their strategy in the coming days. Artemis gave him a knowing smile, and pulled the temporal displacement device out of subspace. He held it up, regarding it's smooth surfaces, and the tiny runescript that glinted in the light. It was amazing to Optimus that such a small device could hurl someone through time._

"_There's some unknown mineral inside this", Artemis explained, twirling the device between his fingers, "that, so far as we can tell, stabilized the time field. It has some odd multi-dimensional properties, lets it react with multiple points of the space-time continuum at the same time. When I used it, the last of this thing's mineral stores were depleted. Without it, the device won't have any directing force; it'll just open a rift in time-space, and obliterate anything that's nearby. I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like too good an idea!"_

_The pair had laughed, and had paid the device no more heed. And now, Artemis had struck on the one option that might save them all..._

O o O o O

Optimus felt his spark lurch as he realised what his son was about to do. Logically, he knew it had to be done, there was no other viable option. With sad optics, he nodded, and Artemis replied in kind. The blue and white mech pressed his right fist over his spark in salute, then moved into the fray. If he didn't succeed, the world ended now...

* * *

Author's Notes: Surprisingly, this isn't going to be the last chapter! Dang, but this should have been finished by now... oh, well.

Neither Transformers, nor any of the associated characters, belong to me. If, after all this time, that hasn't become brutally clear, I'm doing something wrong!

Overlord, for all intents and purposes, belong to me. Megiddo Valley is also mine. So are the Matrices of Power and Combination. The Matrix of Leadership belongs to Optimus Prime.

And last, but by no means least, Artemis Prime in all his heroic glory belongs to my dear friend Prime Revolver, and is used with very kind permission. She also owns my undying gratitude for her help with this story arc. Thanks again, my friend.

Well, just one more chapter and an epilogue to go... it won't be very long, but by goodness it should be a blast! Thanks muchly for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Seven

"_The third principle of sentient life... The capacity for self sacrifice. The conscious ability to give up everything, for a cause, or for a loved one..." - _Draal, Babylon Five

_Ground Zero_

It had all come down to this. All of the planning, the hoping, the prayer, and the fighting, had led Artemis Prime to this point. He had always known that his mission to the past would be his last. It was what he had wanted: one last attempt at destroying the abomination, Overlord. One chance to put right the tainted future he had grown up in, a future that had seen both Earth and Cybertron destroyed. A chance to stop the end of the world before it began.

A chance to save his father's life, the way he had saved his own, once upon a time...

Bracing himself, Artemis gave his father one more glance, then walked willingly into the maelstrom. All of his reality shrank down to a single point, and it was focussed on the chrome and red form before him. Overlord stood at the epicentre of a storm of destruction, as the final stages of the merging process, which would see the Prophecy fulfilled, and the three Matrices combined, took place. His spark hammering in his chest, Art strode toward his foe and his doom with heavy steps.

As he reached the edge of the energy fields, he was almost forced to stop, such was the force of the energies that began buffeting his frame. Moving his battle mask into place, and clenching his jaw, he pushed forward. Each step was agony, every inch fought forward resulting in segments of Art's armour being torn into or away completely. Closer and closer, meter by agonizing meter, he worked his way to Overlord. If the Decepticon was even aware of his progress, he showed no sign. With one last surge, Artemis closed the gap. With a grunt of effort, the young Autobot threw himself at Overlord, slapping the Temporal Generator onto the Emperor's chest. With a whine, it's magnetic seals kicked in, locking the device onto his chassis.

"This is for my future!" Artemis roared at the startled Overlord, and thumbed the activation stud. The device did nothing for a moment, then a sharp, piercing whine began to make itself heard.

"What have you done?" Overlord roared, throwing Artemis off of himself, and scrabbling to remove the small device from his armour.

"I've stopped your reign of terror before it could begin!" Artemis countered, hatred lacing every word. And with that, reality fell apart...

O o O o O

Optimus Prime watched in abject horror as Overlord threw his son away like a sparkling's toy. He heard his son's voice as he bellowed a retort to his enemy, and then with a shuddering _screech_ reality began to tear apart at the seams. A blinding flash emanated from the small time-travel device, and a wave of energy rushed outward, knocking Optimus to the ground. The field of energy surrounding Overlord's form began to warp and expand, and flashes of energon-lightning lashed out in all directions.

At the centre of the temporal event, Overlord loosed a scream of fury and agony. All of his plans had been laid to waste, he could feel it. As the lethal time rift began to manifest within and around his body, sections of his frame began to twist and re-shape. Metal and meta-plastic segments ran like heated wax, and reformed into new shapes. His wings reverted back to the way they had looked when he was still Starscream; sections of his face and head shifted, merging the Crown of Night with his brow and giving all watching a glimpse of his future. Random sections of his chassis began to stretch and shift in unnatural patterns, as the time field intensified.

As reality and un-reality began to collide, and all time became apparent within the field, the three Matrices began to be pushed apart. Optimus Prime watched as Megatron ran forward, hands reaching for the glowing jade orb of the Matrix of Power. He came close, but before he could make a grab for the energy sphere, an arc of lightning lashed out at him, hurling him away, stunned and damaged. Optimus could hear the Matrix of Leadership calling to him, and knew he had to retrieve it before it became too late. But how?

In a flash of inspiration, the answer flew through his neural network. Before the thought was even finished, his hands were already working at his chest plate. As quickly as he could, Prime withdrew the force-chamber that normally held the Matrix, and pulled at it's frame, opening it. As he did so, a stream of energon arced out to the blue Matrix, catching the ancient device in its grasp. Slowly, the Autobot Matrix was pulled free until, with a cry of victory, Prime closed the armoured shell around its target. Holding the Matrix aloft, Prime felt its strength beginning to return to his body; Overlord had truly lost.

With a horrifying cry, the temporal field began to collapse around Overlord, the screaming energies merging their voice with his own as they tore him apart. The Decepticon locked his gaze onto that of Optimus Prime, something between a plea for help and a baleful glare of utmost hatred crossing his features. He cried out, his voice carrying over the time-storm.

"I'm not defeated yet, Prime. You can never win. You cannot... defeat... my _destiny_!" And with one last scream of unearthly energies, he was gone. Last to go, just before the rift closed completely, the two remaining Matrices were pulled in, lost for all time.

Unnatural silence descended, cloaking the battlefield. Overlord's forces, quickly realising that their leader was dead, dropped their weapons and surrendered. The skies above the opposing forces cleared as quickly as they had clouded, returning bright blue to the Dakota skyline. Optimus was aware of Jazz moving up to stand beside him, a slight limp marring his stride, and he turned to face his old friend. Prime was gratified to see that the special ops agent's optics were once more their customary shade of blue.

"It's over", Jazz said quietly, his voice carrying more weight than Prime had heard in some time. "It's gone, Optimus. The Matrix of Power... it's gone. I can't hear it singing any more."

"It's over, old friend", Optimus acknowledged. "If it hadn't been for... Artemis!" With a startled cry, Optimus ran forward, searching for his fallen son, Jazz following in his wake.

They found him not far away, lying in a shallow blast crater. His yellow optics were flickering on and off-line, the young mech fighting to remain conscious. As Prime ran his optics over his son's frame, he gasped at the damage the young mech had taken. Massive sections of his armour had been torn free, his internals showing clearly. Blue and pinkish fluids leaked from dozens of breaks in his chassis, and it was clear from the energon pooling around his abdomen that Artemis was haemorrhaging vital fluids from somewhere internally. Dropping to his knees, Prime gently reached out and lifted Art's head, cradling it in his hands.

"Son? Artemis, can you hear me?" Optimus said, his voice thick with grief. Artemis' optics flickered a few more times, then seemed to focus on the form above him.

"Father...is it... is it done? Is... Overlord?" The young mech's voice was weak, and broken with static. Optimus felt a trickle of energon make it's way down his face-plate, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"Yes, it is done. All because of you, son." Artemis managed a weak smile behind his broken battle mask, before looking directly into his father's optics.

"Don't cry for me", he said, his voice clearer but barely louder than a whisper. "We both knew I was on a one way trip. We both knew that however this all ended, it wasn't going to be good for me. I... I am so happy to have been able to spend this time with you, father. I am proud, and honoured, to have been able to serve side by side with you. And I want you to know... I want you to know, that I love you. Knowing that you survived makes it more than worthwhile."

Artemis' optics blinked out for a second, and a well of panic rose up in Optimus chest. When his golden optics came back on-line, Prime heaved a sigh of relief. It was then that he noticed something. Artemis was fading, slowly becoming transparent, slipping away into nothingness. Artemis saw the panicked question in his father's optics, and smiled.

"You see", he said, "I'm not going to die, not here. But I have no place in this time-line. I can't exist here, not as I am. The time-line is re-writing itself, and I'm not in the script. But know this: so long as you remember me, so long as you hold those memories close, then I can't die. Remember me, and I'll always... always be with you." He beckoned his father to come closer, and Optimus leaned in, his head almost touching Art's. Jazz saw Artemis whisper something, then press his forehead against Optimus' own. They stayed like that for a long moment, until Artemis finally faded from view, like mist into the sunshine.

Jazz waited with Prime, waiting for him to finally move, and glaring a defiant challenge at anyone who might approach, Decepticon and Autobot alike. He knew it might take days; he was one of the few who knew about Orion Maxima, and how badly Optimus had reacted to that loss. In the last couple of weeks, the venerable mech had once again gained, then lost, a son. Yes, they had stopped the war to end all wars. But at what price? How much had they lost to gain the future?

* * *

Epilogue

Three weeks had passed since they had stopped the Apocalypse. Three weeks since the war had ended. Three weeks since the alliance with Megatron and his forces had gone up in flames...

Ironically, it had been a Decepticon who had stopped Megatron from shooting Optimus in the back. The Seacon commander, Snaptrap, had personally seen to it that the war would not continue that day. The enigmatic swordsman had actually placed himself between the Autobot and Decepticon commanders, and had simply stated that Prime had shown his honour, and deserved at least some time to grieve. The time for killing would come again soon, but not that day. Megatron had agreed, after a short while.

Of course, six sets of weaponry pointing at him from all sides, as the Seacons prepared to back their commander up in his assessment of the situation, had nothing to do with it...

Optimus Prime walked up and down the length of his quarters, waiting for a communications link to Cybertron to be put through. As he did so, he found his thoughts drawn to Artemis; his thoughts over the last three weeks had almost exclusively been about his son. He wondered about what little the mech had told him of his life, of his friends, of everything that had brought him to his fate. Prime felt great loss at Artemis' passing, but also great pride. His son was a hero, and had been willing to lay down his life for all he believed in. Optimus hoped, secretly, that when his time came he could do so with half as much dignity.

For three weeks, Prowl, Jazz, Red Alert and Ratchet had taken over command duties at the _Ark_. They had ganged up on Prime, in their own ways, and had made it quite clear that he was to take as much time as he needed to grieve, and that they could handle things. If anything, Ratchet had looked almost disappointed when Prime had capitulated with next to no argument. The thought made Optimus smile a little, a rare event of late.

As the monitor on Prime's desk beeped, letting him know that his signal had been received, and it would only be a few seconds before the channel opened, Prime sat down and faced the screen. He had made a promise to Artemis at the last, and his son's whispered words, _'call her'_, floated through his processors as a familiar face appeared on the screen. Optimus cleared his vocaliser, and spoke the words he had been too afraid to speak for an age...

"Hello, Elita..."

* * *

Author's Notes: Might as well say it one more time... Transformers, and all associated characters are the property of Hasbro/Takara, not myself. Overlord, Temporal Displacement Generators, Megiddo Valley, and even some of the quotes from previous chapters of this story arc, are mine. Cheeky, I know.

Artemis Prime is the property of Prime Revolver, and it is with heavy heart that I return him to his creator. I sincerely hope my work here has done him justice, my friend, and I hope the ending wasn't too upsetting. You have my thanks for all of your support with this project, not just the loan. I don't think I could have done it without you.

I would also like to take time out to thank all of my readers, even if you didn't review; at the end of the day, I know the story has at least been given a look, and if a few of you liked it into the bargain, all the better. And, for those of you that did review, my thanks. I hope the ending of this didn't disappoint, and I hope you'll go and have a look at my upcoming stories list. Keep your eyes peeled, I'll be posting again soon :)

'Til all are one,

MyBlueOblivion


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